Book 46 - Love Will Triumph
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: ADULT THEMES AND SITUATIONS. The wedding day dawns in France, and with it will come death and destruction. Will the President pull the trigger on the Master Plan? Which of Vincent's children will stand against Benoit, and will it be too late? A family member is in grave danger back in the States, and a shocking surprise will change everything.
1. Chapter 1 – Elimination Day

BOOK 46 – LOVE WILL TRIUMPH

PRINTEMPS, A CONTINUE

Chapter 1 – Elimination Day

The morning of Benoit and Michelle's wedding began ominously, with a sudden cloudburst of rain. But by the time the bride-to-be was eating her room service breakfast and watching the news on her hotel television, the sun had come out and dried up the puddles. Good. That meant there wouldn't be a need for the Secret Service, or whatever the equivalent was called here, to run around, holding umbrellas over hers and Ben's heads. Michelle smiled. What a silly thought to be having, right now. But it would be a surreal day as it was, perfect for silly thoughts. She was marrying the President of France today. How was THAT for surreal? That was all they were talking about on the morning news. Michelle felt like Princess Diana and Jackie Kennedy, all rolled into one middle-aged, ordinary package.

She glanced at the clock. Time to hit the shower and get dressed. The "beauty team" would be here in an hour, doing her hair and makeup. That was what Ursula had called it, anyway; a beauty team. Imagine that. Michelle didn't know whether to feel flattered, or deeply insulted.

She headed to the shower.

Cas and Gail would need to head off for their own showers in a minute too, but they were lingering, at the moment. They had been on many dangerous missions before, but this one felt different to Gail, somehow. Scarier than anything they'd ever done in the past.

She kissed Cas softly on his cheek. "I was thinking about the day we met," Gail told her husband. "And Las Vegas, and our wedding. Both of them." She smiled briefly. "And when we were here in Paris, last. It was sort of our honeymoon, in a way. But I remember not feeling very romantic about it. Those white supremacists really got to me. Poor Lise, blowing herself up like that." Now Gail started to cry. "I wish Etienne was back, so you could kill him all over again. And you and I weren't on such solid footing, either. Even though we'd just gotten married, I still hadn't forgiven you for what I thought you'd done to me. I don't think I ever told you that."

Cas was frowning. "No, you didn't. But you didn't have to. I knew. I hadn't forgiven myself, either." He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and kissed her there. "I wish we could change so many things. That's what I was trying to do, when I had the idea to obtain the Book of Li-"

He stopped talking suddenly, frozen in shock. What had he been about to say?

"The Book of Life," Gail said, and her blood ran cold. "You were about to say The Book of Life, weren't you? Cas! I remember! I remember everything, now."

"So do I," he said, stunned. "Our Father modified us, but I remember now, anyway."

Gail nodded. This wasn't the first time she had overcome a memory modification, even one that had been performed by God, Himself. Their Father must be slipping. Either that, or His modification had been half-hearted. Actually, now that she thought about it, Gail suspected it was probably more like the latter. Remembering the details of that ill-fated excursion and the events that had followed was a lot more harsh of a punishment than blissful forgetfulness would have been. Why couldn't she just have THAT, for a change? But of course, she already had. When Lucifer had modified Gail's mind, making her believe that she was a woman named Sarah, she had forgotten about her entire family. Everyone she loved, even Cas. Was THAT bliss? No. No, of course not.

She started to cry again, and Cas's arms tightened around her because he understood. They had been dealing with so much pain and sorrow over losing all of the friends and family members that they had lost in the past year, and now, they had this. He thought about the heartbreak he'd suffered when Gail had gone missing following the incident with the Book of Life, and even once he had found her, it had taken a long time for her to return to herself. That had been all Cas's fault. If he hadn't defied God by killing Hitler, so many things in Cas's life would be different. But something else occurred to him now, and he gave Gail a squeeze.

"Our Father has given me a second chance," Cas told his wife. "Another opportunity to get it right."

Gail stopped crying abruptly, wiping the tears from her cheek with the heel of her hand, almost like a child would do. He was right. Cas was right! He was being given a second chance to rid the world of a man who they were sure was going to go down in history as being just as bad as Hitler, if he wasn't stopped.

"And here I was, about to suggest we just stay in bed all day," she quipped.

Cas smiled. "On any other day, I would be inclined to agree with you. But today, we have the chance to save countless lives!" He kissed her on the mouth, and then on the nose. Then he got out of bed and opened the drapes at the window. It was already shaping up to be a glorious day. He looked at Gail excitedly. "I'm going to take my shower now," he announced. "Will you do me a favour and call Dean? I imagine he and Sam will want breakfast before we go to the Resistance headquarters."

Then he rushed off to the shower, as Gail smiled. It was so good to see him like this. They'd had so little to be happy about, lately. Then her smile faded. The one thing they hadn't talked about was what they were going to do with Vincent's "kids", once they had them. But she had the sinking feeling that she already knew.

Benoit was tying the bow tie around his neck when Gerard came running into the room. "Papa, can you help me with the cucumber?" The boy was holding the cummerbund to his tuxedo in his hand.

His adoptive father laughed, looking down at the boy. "That's a cummerbund, Gerard. But, make sure to call it a 'cucumber' at the wedding. The reporters will love it." He got down on one knee and looped it around Gerard's waist, fastening it at the back. "Now, bring me your bow tie," Benoit said to the child. "I'll tie that for you, too."

"OK, Papa," Gerard said, hurrying out of the room.

Benoit watched his son go, shaking his head slowly. The boy was more excited about Benoit's wedding than Benoit himself was. That was why he was acting like a much younger child. But allowances could be made, he supposed. It was going to be a day to remember, that was for sure.

He turned back to look at himself in the mirror, checking his tie to make sure that it was straight. Yes, today was going to be a big day.

Alice had also been looking forward to this day. She had even dressed up for the occasion, and her suitcases were by the door, already packed. As soon as the bombs she had planted around the reception hall went off tonight, she was going to fly home. But first, she was going to go to the church, and then to the reception hall, to make sure that all eight of her targets were there. She knew that there was no way she would be allowed to enter either the church or the hall, but that was unimportant. All she had to do was make sure they were there. The bombs would do the rest.

She had memorized the faces of the "Paris Eight", but there were a couple of things Alice didn't know. She didn't know that Lorrie was already dead, that Kim was a changeling, and that the Angel Gail was right now heading to the same church as Alice herself was. Alice did a quick calculation in her head. As far as she was aware, there were 19 of them left. Taking care of all eight today would mean that the numbers would be down to a more manageable level at the end of the day. That was how Alice thought about the murders of all of Vincent's offspring: as a math problem to be solved.

She left the hotel room, letting the door close softly behind her.

Eileen, Cecile and a half dozen other Resistance members were in a van that was parked around the corner from the church. That was as close as they could get. Because the motorcade was going to move from the church to the reception hall, the street in front of the church was blocked off by the police. Spectators were starting to gather outside the church, and they would soon be lined up all along the motorcade route.

Cecile had a walkie-talkie unit in her hand, and she was communicating with the others. Cas had deployed most of them on the streets surrounding the church, and there were also a handful of them in the crowd, on the street out front. That was where Cas, Sam and Dean were, at the moment. The intent was to wait until everyone had arrived, then present their invitations to the security people who were checking them at the door. That way, there was no risk of the men being spotted by Benoit, who would already be inside when they entered. He would remember them, of course, and if Dr. Roarke was going to attend the ceremony, he would recognize Cas.

Those men would also recognize Gail, who was already in the church, but she was wearing a wig, and sitting near the back. She was there to spot the young people from the compound. After some deliberation, it had been decided that they were going to abduct Vincent's offspring from the reception, rather than from the church. Their absences from the ceremony might be more noticeable, and there was really nowhere discreet from where to teleport in the church, anyway.

Gail now knew that Lorrie wouldn't be among them. Cecile had told their group that the girl had committed suicide, recently. So Gail was prepared to spot seven young people, not eight. There was only one problem: she was mistaken about the identity of one of them.

The wedding itself was uneventful. Cas sat stiffly beside his wife as their friend Michelle vowed to love, honour and cherish one of the worst individuals the Angels and the Winchesters had ever had the misfortune to meet. Usually Cas loved weddings, but there was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as they watched the ceremony. One of the topics that had been debated among their little group was whether they shouldn't at least have tried to tell Michelle the truth about the man she had planned to marry. But in the end, Cas had been of the opinion that it was too risky. They had no proof, and they couldn't take the chance of alienating Michelle to the extent that she might rescind their invitations to the wedding. Cas could probably still have been able to assassinate Levesque, but they needed to neutralize Vincent's progeny too, and Dr. Roarke, or else the mission would ultimately have turned out to be a failure.

Well, Michelle wouldn't have to be married to Benoit for long, Cas thought grimly. She would be a widow by tomorrow morning. It was a shame that she would grieve the man, but she would get over it.

Cas also couldn't wait to take care of Dr. Roarke. His feelings toward the Angel were very humanlike in that he was eager for vengeance against his so-called "Brother". Cas had very little knowledge of what Roarke might be doing here with Benoit, but Gail had called the Angel "Dr. Mengele", and Cas feared that was likely all too accurate. Yes, Dr. Roarke would have to die, too.

All four of Cas's party were armed, but with Angel blades, only. There had been metal detectors at the entrance to the church. Sam had muttered something about Benoit being paranoid, but he knew that was standard protocol for the leader of any major country. The Resistance people were armed to the teeth, but they would be unlikely to play much of a part in the assassination. They were just there to serve as backup. Gail had advised that the young people who didn't possess lethal powers would be taken by Cas and herself to the Resistance headquarters, where there were a dozen armed people waiting to receive them. Once everything else had been taken care of, they would decide what to do with them.

That was the plan, anyway. Cas felt strongly that they should all be eliminated, and as he and Gail and the Winchesters saw the newly wed couple share their first official kiss as husband and wife, Cas looked at his own wife. He hoped that Gail wouldn't be too angry with him when she found out that Cas was going to follow his own script when it came to Vincent's children.

They were at the venue for the reception now, and that was going to be much more tricky than their attendance at the church had been. The quartet had slipped out of their pew at the back of the church and exited before the couple had come back down the aisle. Gail had confirmed the presence of the seven young people who remained, but with one wrinkle: one of the kids she had expected to see wasn't there, and another youth she hadn't expected to see was.

But those were more or less administrative details, only. They'd needed seven, and she had seen seven. So the four of them were outside the reception hall now, debating about how they were going to proceed. Michelle would be looking for them, attempting to introduce her American friends to her new husband. Well, there was no way that was going to happen. Regardless of what Benoit's reaction would be, Cas was not about to give the man a heads-up to their presence.

Therefore, there was no option but to proceed very cautiously. Cas was going to pop into the place and have a quick peek at where everyone was situated. Wedding protocol suggested that the bride and groom would be at a head table, and the young people and Roarke would likely be seated together, near the front of the room.

As a member of Benoit's cabinet, Cecile would be there, too. She had the walkie-talkie unit in her purse, and Cas's group had one, as well. If Cecile saw any movement from one of their targets, she would report it. If one of the youths went to visit the washroom, either Cas or Gail could pop inside and fetch them. And if one of the young people came outside, they could seize them immediately.

Cas had finally confessed to his wife that he was prepared to eliminate any one of Vincent's offspring, rather than take the chance of anyone in their group being fatally wounded. Gail had told them that the blonde girl, Ursula, had the ability to inflict severe wounds on peoples' bodies just by looking at them. Toby could change everyday objects into weapons, and little Jerry, or Gerard, as his adoptive father called him? Well, no one really knew exactly what the boy was capable of. But he would be an adolescent now, and the Winchesters knew that supernatural powers and puberty could make a dangerous combination. All juvenile jokes aside, that boy might be the most lethal of them all, because he might be the most unstable.

But Cas was still hedging. He intended to kill all of them, and ask for Gail's forgiveness later. Beg for it, if necessary. But, who knew? She might feel the same way that he did; that those young people represented far too great of a risk to be left alive.

Alice felt exactly the same way. She was on the other side of the building, at the rear, by the dumpster bins and the door to the facility's kitchen. She hadn't planted any explosives back here. She only wanted the Paris Eight. Nowadays, the phrase "collateral damage" was way overused, but she truly didn't want the place's employees to become collateral damage, not if she could help it. Alice didn't even care if the President lived or died. He probably would die, but as long as Vincent's children all did, Alice honestly didn't care. She knew nothing about politics. All she knew was, by the time the first course was served, the number of abominations she had left to eliminate would be down to eleven. And that would be what Alice would call a good day.

But she had made two errors. The first had been an oversight; a little detail, really. Alice had forgotten that some people, whether they were abominations or not, liked to smoke cigarettes. And even though this was France, there was really nowhere a person could smoke indoors any more.

And the other error she had made was in staggering the timing of the blasts. Alice had thought that she was being clever, doing it that way. Once the first explosion had been triggered, people would be scrambling to get out of the main hall. That was when the other bombs would begin to trigger. At least, that was supposed to be what would happen.

But life rarely worked out the way it should, did it?

Toby stepped outside through the kitchen door, firing up a cigarette. He was starving, but dinner had yet to be served. He guessed that fancy French cuisine took a bit of time to whip up.

Benoit didn't like them smoking in public, though. Said it sent the wrong message to young people. So Toby had snuck out the back, where there were no reporters.

As he inhaled, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, Toby felt a sharp pain in his back. Ow! Maybe he'd inhaled too deeply. Was this what the start of lung cancer felt like?

Alice stabbed Toby again. She'd snuck up behind him, taking the knife out of her purse. She supposed she could have just waited for the bombs to take care of him, but here he was right now, and she hadn't been able to resist.

Toby wheeled on her. He'd been stabbed in the back twice now, but he was in such a state of shock that the signal hadn't yet passed from his brain to his body.

"Lady, what the hell?!" Toby exclaimed. He saw the knife she was holding, dripping with his blood, and then he understood. He looked down at the cigarette he was still holding, and it changed into a gun.

But Alice was ready for that. She had done her homework on Vincent's children. She dropped the knife and grabbed Toby's arm, twisting it at the wrist. He dropped the gun to the pavement with a clatter, and Alice picked it up, shooting the unfortunate young man in the stomach. He fell to his knees, and then pitched forward, face-first.

Alice leaned over him, putting the gun to his head. She'd better make absolutely sure. She took a moment to appreciate the surreal feeling of holding a working gun that had been a cigarette just a moment ago. Talk about irony. She spared a quick glance at the kitchen door. Apparently, no one had heard the first gunshot. Should she risk another?

BOOM! The first explosion, from inside the building. The timing couldn't have been better. She shot Toby in the head, twice, in quick succession. Then she put the gun in her purse and hurried away from the building, just as the second bomb went off.

Benoit and Michelle were being served the first course of the meal when the first bomb went off. The head of his Security team wasted no time. He grabbed the President, hauled him out of his seat and pushed him to the floor as the debris from the blast flew across the dining room.

In the couple of minutes it took between the first explosion and the second, the room descended into total chaos. Some of the women were screaming, and so were more than a few of the men. The bomb had gone off in the back of the hall, near the front entrance and the hallway to the bathrooms.

The Security detail had Benoit moving now. He'd been hustled out the back of the building, through the kitchen. Michelle stood there, astonished. Okie-dokie, then. Clearly, she was being left to fend for herself. She grabbed Gerard by the hand, thinking to get the child out of the building.

Suddenly, Michelle and Gerard were standing outside. "I'm going back to find the others," Huey told her, and he vanished again.

Gerard was crying, wide-eyed with terror. "Where's Papa?!" he asked her.

"His guards had to make sure he was safe," Michelle told the boy. It was her responsibility now to make sure that her new son was safe, so she bent down and picked him up, hiking up her wedding dress. "Let's get away from this place."

The second bomb went off as Michelle began to run away from the building. That bomb had been situated closer to the table where Vincent's kids and Dr. Roarke had been sitting. Roarke had winked out of there the instant the first explosion had occurred, saving his own hide. Naturally.

Huey teleported Jillian, Kim and Cody outside from the banquet hall next. Jillian's face was covered with the blood of a couple of the other guests, who had been instantly disintegrated. She also had a broken arm, but she would only realize it later, when the shock of what was happening wore off.

Kim was injured too, but his injury wasn't visible. When he had turned suddenly to look for the source of the blast, the young Asian male had wrenched his back. He was wincing now, as Cody was looking at Huey.

"Where's Ursula? And Toby?" Cody shouted.

"Toby told me he was going out back, to have a cigarette," Kim informed the young men.

"Ursula was going to the washroom," Jillian piped up.

"The washroom?!" Huey said, panicked. "That where the first explosion came from!" He promptly disappeared.

Cecile had almost made it out of the building with the other people at her table when the third explosion occurred. Jean Hamelin had her by the elbow, and he was steering her toward the emergency exit at the side of the room. She had been just about to excuse herself and go out to the hallway to call the Angels on the walkie-talkie, to alert Gail that Ursula was heading towards the ladies' room, when the first blast had occurred. Then there had been the second explosion, and all hell had broken loose. People were running blindly around the room, screaming, trying to get out. But they were bumping into each other, and some of the guests were falling on the floor, being stepped on by others.

When the third bomb went off, Jean seized Cecile's arm and pulled her away from the others who had been at their table. "We have to go THAT way!" he shouted above the noise, gesturing toward the side exit. But Cecile was caught up in the motion of the crowd now, and they were surging towards the exit on the other side.

And that was when the fourth and final bomb went off, blowing those people to bits. Ironically enough, Cecile's body cushioned him from the blast, enough for Jean to avoid being decapitated by a serving tray that came whizzing past the spot where Benoit's Press Agent's neck had been, just a moment ago. Jean was knocked to the ground, and as he struggled to get up, he realized that he was laying under a pile of bodies. Were those people dead, or alive? Who knew? All Jean knew was that he had to get out of here, or he was a dead man.

He crawled out from under his fellow guests, and, in the most horrifying moment of his life, Jean shook off the final impediment, which had turned out to be the stockinged leg of his co-worker, Cecile. The high-heeled shoe was still on the foot. He knew it was her, because he had complimented her on her shoes, earlier. Jean had always liked Cecile, but he had been too awkward to ask her out. Why hadn't he asked her out?

He turned his head to look, but there was no other part of Cecile that was recognizable. Jean retched, vomiting in front of himself on the floor. Then, he started to crawl towards the exit.

Huey had popped back into the hall to get Ursula. Since the first explosion had been in the area of the washrooms, the smoke was clearing there now, enabling him to see down the corridor. He spotted her right away, and ran towards his half-sister, sinking to his knees beside her. He rolled her over, and saw with horror that her beautiful face was gone. Ursula was dead.

Man, oh, man. This was bad. This was so bad, Huey thought frantically. He'd better get the hell out of -

Before he had the chance to teleport himself out again, the final bomb exploded, killing Huey instantly.

Cas and his group had been caught completely by surprise by the explosions.

The invitation had stated that dinner was going to be served at seven pm. The first bomb went off just before that, followed by another, and then another, and then another.

They could do nothing but stand and watch helplessly as the debris from the blasts flew back into the street. The Angels grabbed the Winchesters and winked them further away from the building, which started to burn in the blast areas. A few stray guests staggered out of the building, and Cas and Gail ran forward to see if they could heal any injuries.

Eileen came tearing around the corner. She hadn't heard the explosions, of course, but her Resistance companions had. "Cecile is in there!" she signed frantically.

Jean had just managed to crawl outside by climbing over the bodies that had piled up near the exit door, and he took a deep breath of the fresh night air now. He was alive! But he had no idea what had happened to everyone else. What about the President, and his new bride? What about the rest of the cabinet?

Eileen recognized Jean from the Christmas party she'd attended with her sister at the government offices, and from countless press conferences. She and Cecile had talked about Monsieur Hamelin before. They couldn't figure out what was going on with him. He seemed like a decent man, but he was a spin doctor for an awful man, who ran a Fascist government. The sisters had had a bit of a laugh in the past, joking that Cecile should try to seduce Jean for state secrets. She'd always thought that he was kind of sweet on her, Cecile had told Eileen.

Sam moved forward as Eileen rushed over to Jean, signing frantically. "Where is Cecile?"

Jean was covered in blood, and his eyes were wide. He had no idea what this woman was trying to say. Wait. Wait a minute. Wasn't she - ?

"She wants to know where her sister is," Sam said to the man. "Cecile."

Jean shook his head, and Eileen started to wail. Sam had never heard something so sad in all his life. He took her in his arms and she struggled, pounding his chest with her fists. Sam understood. He held her even tighter.

By the time the emergency vehicles started to arrive, the Angels and their human friends and allies had gone.


	2. Chapter 2 - Rebel Yell

Chapter 2 – Rebel Yell

It was said that great minds think alike, and that kindred spirits will usually find each other.

The man and woman who were sitting at the table in the coffee shop were not really either of those things. In fact, there had been a time when they had thought very differently from each other.

But time changes people, and so do experiences, and now, Xavier and Patricia held the same beliefs. Humans were damned. Or if they weren't, they ought to be. Commandments being broken right and left. Sinning was the order of the day. Earth was their home now, but it was a wretched place. And neither of them would be welcomed back into the Kingdom of Heaven, not as long as Bobby sat in the High Office, with Castiel, Gabriel and Gail to back him up.

The situation was intolerable. Each of them had been God at one point, and now here they were, sitting in a dingy, greasy-spoon restaurant, sharing a teabag and some hot water between them.

"We must figure out a way to restore Heaven to its former glory," Xavier insisted. "We must oust those sinners from the hallowed halls, and bring back the old ways. Heaven means nothing to humans, any more. Nor do Angels, or even God. There is no respect. No fear."

Patricia's lips were pursed. She had heard this same diatribe from him many times before, ever since she had spotted him in this very same diner, several months ago. Money was required to live on Earth among humans, and neither of them had very much of it. Patricia had been existing here ever since she had killed Emma in Heaven, but the woman who had once been God had no idea why she still existed. Why had she killed that young Angel Emma, anyway? She could no longer remember. With every day that passed, she was becoming increasingly more unbalanced.

So was Xavier. His righteous indignation over the state of humanity had grown into a religious fervour that the most pious of holy men could never hope to match. He had been glad when Patricia had sought him out. To Xavier, the fact that the two of them had found each other in this heathen land had to mean something. They had been almost constant companions ever since, commiserating with each other about how far they had fallen, and how Heaven's Upper Tier now consisted of an alcoholic, a serial fornicator, a murderer, and his smart-mouthed, piece of trash wife.

On and on it went, until Patricia couldn't stand it any more. She got up from the table and stalked angrily out of the diner.

Xavier jumped out of his chair and followed her. "What are you doing? Where are you going?" he asked her, puzzled.

"I don't know!" Patricia exclaimed, frustrated. "I only know that I can't continue on this way. "All we do is talk, and talk, and talk, and nothing ever changes!"

"What would you have me do?" Xavier said, his mouth tightening. "I'm not an Angel any more, I'm not a Demon, and I'm certainly not a human. I want to start the cleansing as much as you do, but I have no idea how to begin!"

"I do," Patricia said firmly. "If you're really sincere about what you say, I know exactly how to begin."

She led him to the tiny apartment she called home, told him to wait in the sitting room, and a moment later, Patricia emerged, holding the Angel blade.

Overseas, the Winchesters and two of those Angels that their enemies had been railing about were at the Resistance headquarters, strategizing.

They knew now that almost all of their targets had eluded their grasp. Benoit, Dr. Roarke, Gerard, Jillian, Kim and Cody were all still alive, and relatively unscathed except for a few fairly minor injuries.

What a disaster that had been. An utter, abject failure of a mission. Cas was pacing the floor, furious at himself. He should have killed Benoit in the church, when he'd had the opportunity. Why had he not done so? To spare their friend, Michelle? A soldier couldn't think like that. He had to do his duty, no matter what. Yes, they'd wanted Vincent's offspring too, but Benoit was the priority, here. Cas had allowed himself to lose focus.

Gail disagreed vehemently. None of this was Cas's fault. They'd had a good plan, a viable plan. It had just gone sideways on them. Who the hell knew that someone was going to bomb the crap out of the reception hall? And who had that been, anyway?

Cas stopped pacing, and he looked at Sam now. "Ask Eileen if any of her group has access to explosives."

Eileen stepped forward. "I can read lips, Cas," she signed angrily. "No, we don't have any explosives! And even if we did, none of us would have ever done anything like that. All those innocent people, dead. Cecile..." She choked up, and stopped signing. Sam gave her a hug.

"Well, at least two of the most dangerous ones didn't survive," Gail said, trying to find a silver lining. "When I saw him last in the compound, Toby was working on changing ordinary objects into weapons. I'll bet you he succeeded. It's weird that he was killed the way he was, though. Stabbed AND shot? Whoever did it obviously meant business. And, I hate to say it because I feel like a rotten Angel when I do, but I'm especially relieved that Ursula's gone. She was one of the ones I was the most worried about."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Eileen signed sharply.

Gail looked at her, sighing. "No." She knew how she herself would feel if it had been Frank, or one of the guys she was standing with right now, who had been blown up in that building.

The human part of Cas understood the reason behind Eileen's rebuke, but the protective instinct he felt for his wife was also weighing in. "Gail was merely pointing out that there are two very dangerous subjects who are now off the game board," he said coolly, in full soldier mode.

Tension hung thick in the air for a moment as they all stared at each other grimly. Then, as Frank might have done back in the States, Neil came forward, nudging Eileen. "We're all so damn sorry about Cecile," he told her. "She was a good woman. This sucks chunks, or blows eggs, or whatever you want to say about it." He'd been hoping to get a bit of a smile from their leader, but...nothing. He guessed it was way too soon, but it hurt Neil to see Eileen like this. She looked despondent, almost like she was feeling like giving up. He continued, "But what we've gotta focus on now is another plan."

"Yeah. Good luck with that," Dean said, letting out a frustrated breath. "That guy's gonna have the entire French Army guarding him, now."

Neil glared at him for a second. Dean wasn't helping, here. "OK, maybe we just talk about the kids first, and work our way up. Who are the rest of them, Short Stuff, and what can they do?"

Gail was thoughtful. "Now, keep in mind that I was in the compound a couple of years ago, if not more, and some of them were just coming into their powers. Sort of like when I first became an Angel. She looked at Sam and Dean. "Remember when I tried to give you guys a push back to your motel, and I only sent you a block or two away?"

They gave her tight smiles. Yeah, they remembered. It had been kind of funny, at the time. Now, she could probably take them to the moon and back without even breaking a sweat.

"Anyway, speaking of teleporting," Gail went on, "we have Cody, who's likely in his early 30s, now. I took quick pictures of them all at the wedding, and sent Eileen the attachments."

"Yes, we got those," Celine advised the Angel.

Gail nodded. "Good. Cody can teleport objects, but as far as I know, not people. Huey was the one who could teleport people, but he also died in the reception hall."

"Well, that doesn't sound too lethal to me," Dean commented.

"Not until you realize that he could get rid of whatever weapon you're holding at the time," Gail pointed out. "Plus, he was working on larger items when he was taken. For all I know, he might be able to drop a building on you, by now."

They were all silent as Gail took a breath. Then she went on: "And then, there's Jillian. She'll be around 30 by now, as well. She looks like a nice, normal young woman, but there's just something about her that..." She paused, to gather her thoughts. "She touched my arm once when I was hooking her up to the machines for testing, and suddenly, I was thinking the worst kinds of stuff. I remember, just for a split second, thinking that none of you guys gave a crap about me. That you were going to just leave me there, because you all hated me. And, for one second, I hated all of you, too."

Her companions were shocked into silence once again. So were the people from the Resistance, and they were puzzled, too. "What does that have to do with what we're talking about?" Celine asked Gail, confused.

Gail laughed shortly. "Jillian is the complete opposite of an empath. She can just touch somebody, and give them bad thoughts. Hateful thoughts."

"Well, that sure explains a lot," Eileen signed. She had already looked at the photos of the remaining siblings, and she'd realized something: Jillian had circulated throughout the spectators at pretty much every press conference and public speech Levesque had made. Now she was starting to understand just how insidiously diabolical the situation was. Their American friends were right. Those young people had to be dealt with, too.

"I screwed up on Kim, though, and I'm worried about that," Gail said suddenly.

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

She sighed again. "I thought I had them all identified. But I expected to see a psychic girl by the name of Kim there, and she wasn't there."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Dean inquired, bemused. "If there was a psychic, they would probably know we're after them, right?"

Gail was shaking her head. "She was a low-grade clairvoyant, Dean," she said, making a face. "So, unless her powers increased a thousand percent since the compound, I doubt it. But anyway, it's academic. She wasn't there. It was a guy named Kim, instead. And this guy is a lot more problematic. He's a changeling. When we were testing him, he could change his hair colour just by thinking up a new one, and he could grow facial hair instantly. And he told us that once, when he was in his room, he changed his face into that of a female's. We couldn't get him to replicate that, but if he can do it now, he could be anybody. He attended the wedding looking like himself, but his picture might be next to useless, if that's the case."

Dean threw his hands up in frustration. "Awesome."

"And then, there's little Jerry," Gail went on.

"Gerard," Eileen corrected, frowning deeply. "HE calls him Gerard, to pander to the French people."

"Whatever," Gail said, shrugging. "He's a mainly sweet kid who's just entering his adolescence. I'm not really sure exactly what he can do, but I think he might be the one I'm the most worried about. When we tested him, he was impossible to categorize. Some days, he would be happy and chatty, and manifest no powers. None at all. But other times, if he was tired, or cranky, he could do some really eerie things. Once, he looked at Roarke's computer, and the monitor melted. Then, on another occasion, he said he wanted to go outside and play, and Roarke told him he couldn't. He looked at the two of us then, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck tingle. You know what? I get the feeling that if we had been humans, we would have been impressionist paintings on the lab wall that day. We'd better be very, very careful with him. All of us, even me and Cas. If his powers have increased, and if he thinks his family is being threatened, I don't know what he'll be capable of doing."

Sam had been listening to Gail, but something was tickling at the back of his brain now. What was he missing, here? There was something he wasn't taking into consideration here, something he couldn't...quite...come up with...

But before he had the opportunity to determine what that might have been Dean's cell phone rang.

Everybody looked at the elder Winchester, and he shrugged. Who the hell would be calling his cell phone in Paris, France? His heart started to race. There were a handful of people back home who had his number, and they would only be calling him if it was a dire emergency.

And, it was. But the call wasn't coming from North America.

Michelle and Gerard were alone in the mansion now. Well, as alone as two people could be in a huge house with a domestic staff inside and a phalanx of armed guards outside on the grounds, that was.

Benoit had left for the office this morning, with his own team of armed guards accompanying him. Ever since the horror at the wedding reception, the President had stepped up his security measures considerably. He supposed he'd been too complacent. But Levesque was honestly bewildered. The French people loved him. Could it have been an act of terrorism? It must have been. Those people used explosives all the time.

But then, he'd had an inspiration. There was a silver lining to the entire incident, he had realized. This was just the kind of thing he had needed to justify taking the operations to the next level. Once he informed the public that the illegal immigrants that his government was detaining, for all of their protection, were responsible for the terrorist bombings, he would be able to do whatever he wanted.

It was a shame to have lost those young people, because of the talents they'd had, and the benefit to him. He wasn't really bothered about the loss of another mistress, though. In his position, he could attract all the young girls he wanted. He could re-staff his cabinet, too.

Benoit had informed Michelle that he had to go to the office. They would have to issue some statements to the public, and he needed to communicate with the proper authorities. Michelle understood, of course. Such was the life of a Head of State. She had been hoping for the opportunity to have their honeymoon and maybe a few days of wedded bliss, before the duties of his office called. But Michelle had to put her own feelings aside, now. The French people were in mourning, and she needed to respect that. As horrifying as Lorrie's suicide had been, this was a thousand times worse.

Now that Benoit had left the house, Michelle was feeling kind of strange. She'd grown up in a wealthy family, so she was used to ornate homes and domestic staff, but these people didn't know her, and they seemed fairly standoffish. Oh, well. These things took time, she supposed.

But Gerard needed her now, more than anyone. Michelle had felt sorry for the boy, even before the traumatic events at the reception. Their little family had emerged unharmed, thank God, and Benoit had apologized to his bride afterwards. His security detail had been overly enthusiastic in their zeal to get him out of the venue, but he had reprimanded them sternly. He had a wife and a son, and they were his priority, Benoit had told them. He was very sorry that she and Gerard had been left behind that way.

Gerard had regressed since the incident, and Michelle was determined to make sure to spend a lot of time with her new son, and help him work through the trauma. It had at least been fortunate that the boy hadn't personally witnessed any of the gory deaths, or she would probably have had to take him to see a mental health professional. But she was reasonably sure that he would be all right on his own in a fairly short period of time. Children were very resilient.

Michelle and Gerard had had breakfast, and then the boy had told her that he wanted to go outside. It was a beautiful, sunny day. Gerard had been hoping that Maman Michelle could take him downtown. Maybe they could go shopping, or even go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Could they, please? He had always wanted to go there.

Her heart sank. There was no way they could leave the house right now. Benoit had left strict instructions for them to stay home until the authorities completed their investigation. She tried to tell Gerard this as gently as she could, but she could see that he was getting agitated.

What should she do? Michelle had never been a maternal figure to a boy his age before, and Gerard had just been through a terrifying experience. Should she capitulate?

"Madame." A voice came from behind her. Michelle turned around. One of the house staff was standing in the doorway. What was his name, again? She had no idea.

Cody came striding into the room past the man. "Thanks, Jeeves," he said with a smirk. "Hey, Jerry. Hey, Mrs. L. How're you doing?"

Michelle smiled. His arrival couldn't have been more opportune. "Hi, Cody. I'm glad you're here. Gerard is a little unhappy, at the moment. He wanted to go out, but we're not really supposed to leave the house right now. What can you think of to do here that's really fun?"

Cody looked down at the young boy. Geez. It was a good thing he'd come, then. Ever since the incident, he had taken it upon himself to check up on the survivors; make sure they were doing OK. Jillian and Kim seemed just fine, but Cody had been thinking about little Jerry, or Gerard, as Benoit liked to call him. Cody knew that sometimes, when the kid got freaked out about something, bad things happened. No, they didn't want him to be unhappy, if they could help it. Cody had seen a couple of things at that compound.

Gerard's lower lip was trembling, but he was also looking up at Cody now. None of the other kids had had much to do with the boy since they'd all been taken here to France. He guessed he kind of understood; they were all a lot older than him. They had jobs, working in the government with his Papa. Gerard wasn't old enough to have a job, yet. But he was just so tired of being cooped up in this house, all the time.

Cody could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, just like Gail had described to her people a minute ago. Oh, geez. He'd better think of something, fast.

"Do you have a back yard, here?" he asked Michelle.

She was amused. "Of course we do. I'm a city woman, but I think it's 10 acres, or something."

"Great!" Cody enthused. "Let's go outside, Jerry!" He looked at Michelle again. "We'll still be on the property, but at least we'll be outside."

The woman nodded. She couldn't see the harm in that. "Sounds good," she said brightly. "I'll tell you what: you boys go ahead, and I'll join you in a minute."

Michelle headed upstairs to one of the spare rooms, as the young men went outside. She was a lot happier about things, now. It just so happened that she had brought her new son a few presents from the United States. She had been planning on waiting until they'd gotten back from their honeymoon, but now that Cody was here, there couldn't really be a better time to break out the baseballs, gloves, and aluminum bat.

Gerard and Cody stood outside on the back lawn for a minute, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. Cody was astonished at the amount of land that stretched out before them. 10 acres? More like 50.

Being a pre-teen boy who had regressed in maturity, though, after a moment of enjoying being outside, Gerard turned to Cody. "I'm bored," he whined. "I want to DO something."

"Your stepmom's going to be out here in a minute," Cody said in a reasonable tone. "We'll see what she suggests."

"NO!" Gerard shouted petulantly.

Cody's blood froze. Suddenly, he felt a sort of a ripple on his arm. He was wearing a T-shirt, so his arms were bare, and the young man could actually see the skin on his arms start to bubble. Oh, crap. Here it came. If he didn't figure something out in about two seconds, Cody was going to be toast. Literally.

"OK, OK, hold on a sec," the young man said hastily. "How would you like to have a playground? We could have swings, and a slide, and a see-saw, and..." What else? Hell, he'd get the kid a pony or two, if that was what it took to keep the flesh on Cody's bones.

"Yayyy!" Gerard exclaimed, clapping his hands happily. He was acting like he was about six years old, Cody thought, trying not to roll his eyes. He looked out into the yard and concentrated, and a moment later, there was a full playground in front of them. There was also a popcorn machine, because Cody liked popcorn. And, Lord help him, a small brown pony was tethered to it.

Michelle dropped the baseball equipment she'd been holding, looking out the window at the back yard in utter shock. She had been just about to go outside when she'd glanced out there just in time to see the playground set suddenly appear. What the hell?!

She stood still, frozen with shock, her mind racing. How had THAT happened?

Then, she heard Cody through the open screen at the window: "What do you think, Jerry? Pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah!" the young boy exclaimed. "Can I have an elephant, too?"

"If you promise not to blow me up, I'll get you pretty much anything you want," Cody said nervously. "But, don't you think your Dad would be mad if he knew we were using our powers? Your new Mom doesn't even know about us being special yet, right? Don't you think she'll be kind of freaked out by this whole deal?" He waved his arms in the direction of the playground to emphasize his point, but because the kid was looking a little squirrelly again, Cody added, "Besides, do you know how much poop we would have to clean up, if there was an elephant here?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Gerard giggled. "OK; no elephant, then. Let's go play on the swings!"

Michelle was open-mouthed. Get Gerard an elephant? Blow Cody up? If she hadn't seen and heard those things with her own eyes and ears, she would have thought that somebody had slipped her some kind of a drug, or something.

The question was: what was she supposed to do, now?

"Michelle?" Dean said into his cell phone. Everyone in the room snapped to attention.

"Dean? I didn't know who else to call. I need your advice," France's First Lady said. "I'm at home now, and - "

They'd been caught completely by surprise, but there was one more surprise to come. Dean heard nothing, after that. Nothing at all. There was a sound he couldn't quite place coming from her end, and then...nothing. He said their friend's name a couple of times, but finally, Dean had to conclude that she had hung up, for some reason. He hit the Re-dial button, but it just rang and rang.

Now what? Dean looked at the others. "She said she needed my advice," he told them.

"What about?" Sam asked his brother.

"I never got the chance to find out," Dean said, shaking his head. "That was it. And now, she's not picking up."

They all thought about that for a minute. What were the implications? They had been all ready with their story. The next time they talked to their friend, they were planning to tell her that they hadn't checked in with her because they knew how hectic things must be for her right now. The news services had reported that Michelle and her family were OK, and so were they, the humans and Angels were going to assure her. They were sorry they hadn't had the chance to talk at the reception, but everything had happened so fast, and things had been so crazy. Cas and Gail had winked Dean and Sam out of there the moment everything had gone to crap, Dean was going to say. They had to maintain their cover story that they'd been there, of course.

The problem was, nobody knew what to do now. It seemed like Michelle had been reaching out as a friend for their help, but what had her phone call been about?

"How did she sound, Dean?" Cas asked the elder Winchester.

Dean was thoughtful for a moment. He knew that there was a fair amount riding on his answer to that question. She hadn't sounded panicked, or freaked out, more like... "Puzzled. Dazed, or something."

"What would she want YOUR advice about?" Cas mused out loud.

Dean looked at his friend sharply, but now was not the time for jokes. Even Gail was looking serious.

Sam was nodding, though. It could only be one thing, in his opinion. "She must have seen Jerry using his powers," he said. "You said she's at Benoit's house, right? He must have them on lockdown."

Gail's eyes widened. "I told you guys what I think Jerry might be capable of doing, if he gets upset. Somebody bombed the crap out of the wedding reception, and now he's probably being told he can't leave his house. That's not a very good scenario," she said nervously.

"Eileen," Celine said, tapping the Resistance leader on the arm. Neil's wife was pointing to a red light on the wall, which was blinking on and off.

"What's that?" Cas asked. "It looks like an alarm, of some sort."

"It is," Eileen signed quickly. She took a gun out of her jacket and strode toward the inner door by the back yard. Sam, Dean, Neil and Celine followed suit, backing her up.

Cas and Gail exchanged glances, getting their Angel blades out. But a moment later, came Neil's voice: "It's OK, everybody. You can stand down. It's the ladies from Phaedra Designs."

The other members of the Resistance group had had weapons at the ready, tight expressions on their faces. But now, they relaxed, putting the weapons away. Cas and Gail looked quizzical, but obviously none of the people here seemed to be concerned, so they put their blades away, as well.

The group who had accompanied Eileen came filing back into the room, followed by three very attractive women of middle-Eastern descent.

"I'm sorry, we didn't mean to startle anyone," Fazima said pleasantly. "My key card got stuck in the door, and I guess it must have triggered the alarm." She looked at Cas, and her jaw dropped. "Sheik?"

Benoit's manservant had called him at the office to tell him that Cody had shown up, and then he had called his boss back a short while later to tell the President what Michelle had seen, and the fact that she had called someone named Dean.

Michelle's new husband had cursed viciously in French, telling Francois to do whatever he had to do to stop her from continuing that phone call. So the man had simply marched up to Michelle and grabbed the phone from her hand, and she had been so surprised that she'd let him. Then Francois had disconnected the phone call, and then, for good measure, he had dropped Michelle's cell phone on the floor and smashed it with his foot.

She had been incensed. "What the hell? What do you think you're doing?" she'd shouted at Benoit's valet.

He wasn't really sure what to say in response, but fortunately, Benoit entered the room a moment later. He dismissed Francois, who was only too happy to leave.

Benoit regarded his new bride. He'd really hoped to have a bit more time to get her used to the way things were, around here. He had no idea what was going on, all of a sudden. How dare Cody just breeze in here and do what he'd done? And Francois had said that Cody had referred to Gerard's powers, in the context of his older half-brother imploring him not to use them. That shouldn't be an issue, not if Gerard was drinking the formula every -

Ah. That must be it. When Benoit had found out about the potential emergency at his home, he'd had Dr. Roarke teleport him there immediately. Then he'd given the Angel instructions to deal with Cody by taking the young man to his office at the facility. Benoit would come there and talk to him, as soon as the President was done talking to his wife. Also, Roarke was to subdue Gerard immediately, just in case.

"I can understand why you're so confused," Benoit said to Michelle. "I had intended for us to have that conversation on our honeymoon, but since that didn't happen, we'll have it now."

"Your flunky smashed my cell phone, and we have a playground in our back yard! And a pony!" Michelle fumed. Although, she supposed it could have been worse: last she'd looked, there had been no elephant.

"I'm sorry about Francois," Benoit said smoothly. "He will be disciplined. I asked him to persuade you to discontinue the call, and he obviously took my instruction much too far. I just wanted to tell you about the situation myself, before you involve your friends. I assume that's who you were calling?"

"Yes," Michelle confirmed.

"I wish you had called me first, but we'll put that behind us, for now," Benoit said with a frown.

"I thought of that, but Cody made a remark that - " Michelle stopped herself. Why did she feel like she was on the defensive, all of a sudden? It was Ben who owed her an explanation, not the other way around. She took a deep breath. "My friends have had some experience with this kind of stuff. Sam and Dean Winchester are brothers who deal with unusual cases, and Cas and Gail are a married couple who... All four of them helped me out, a few years ago. They're my friends, Ben. I don't feel bad about calling them; YOU should feel bad about not telling me what was going on, in the first place."

Benoit's blood was boiling now. American brothers, named Sam and Dean Winchester? Cas and Gail? This was unbelievable! Out of all the people in the United States, his wife was friends with the very people who had killed the members of Les Rebelles Blancs, and blown up their headquarters?! And now, here they were again, sniffing around! He was livid. Benoit owed those people, for burning down what he'd spent all that time building. But he needed to take a deep breath now, and calm himself. He was the President of France, with many more resources at his disposal now than he had had then. And now, he had the advantage of knowing who Michelle's friends were, and that they were here. There was no way they'd come here for a wedding. Benoit didn't believe that for a moment.

But right now, he had some damage control to do here. Benoit still believed that everything could remain on track, as long as he was able to bring Michelle on board, to a certain extent. It was time to bring out the version of the story he'd planned to tell her on their honeymoon.

"Let me tell you about a man named Vincent, and some children with special abilities," Benoit began. The best and most believable stories contained the truth, or at least, as much of it as he was prepared to divulge. For the purposes of this tale, though, the good guys' and the bad guys' identities would be slightly altered. But, Michelle would believe. And because she had such a kind and sympathetic heart, she would be a great asset to him going forward, into the next phase of the Master Plan.

Fazima and the other two ladies who had once been part of Cas's harem in Egypt were all smiling at the Angel now. "It's so good to see you, Sheik," she said warmly. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

Everyone was gaping at Cas now, and his throat was suddenly very, very dry. "It's Cas," he said uncomfortably. "Just...Cas."

As the women moved closer to Cas, he reached out and took Gail's hand, drawing her towards him, as if for protection. Sam and Dean were smirking at each other. This was too funny. They remembered how much trouble Cas had been in with Gail when she'd found out that he had a whole harem of beautiful "wives", when he'd been posing as the Sheik on the Tablet mission in Egypt. These women wore casual, American clothes and their faces were uncovered now, and they were even more gorgeous than the men remembered.

"I remember you," one of the ladies said, smiling at Dean. He took a half-step backwards, and Sam's grin widened.

"This is my wife, Gail," Cas said with a stricken look, holding up her ring hand. "You remember her too, don't you?"

"You're married to another woman?" Fazima said sharply. "But, you never divorced any of us!"

As Cas's mouth dropped open, the Egyptian women laughed. "You should see your face right now," Fazima said to him. "I'm sorry, Cas, I was only having a little fun." Her smile faded. "That's so hard to come by, these days. If you're here, I expect you know that." She looked at Gail. "I DO remember you. I'm so glad the two of you got married. When your husband released us from our duties at the Palace, I went back to school and completed my degree in Interior Design. Then I opened Phaedra Designs, and business was going very, very well until President Levesque levied the taxes on all immigrant-owned establishments. He has made it known that we are not welcome here in Paris, because our skin is a different colour, and because we are women."

"That's terrible!" Gail exclaimed.

"And that's not even the worst part," Rashida chimed in. "We live and work in the South District, and so do many other people of colour. Lately, some of our friends and neighbours have gone missing, and just yesterday, my sister and her son disappeared from their apartment, and they haven't been seen since."

"We've tried everything we could think of to assimilate," the third woman, Sabra, said. "We stopped wearing burkas, and bought these slacks and blouses. But it doesn't seem to matter what we do. The current regime has made it quite clear our presence is not welcome here, and unfortunately, some of the French citizens seem to agree."

"So, naturally, we've dug our heels in and refused to budge," Fazima said with a grim smile. "We've come a long way from the Royal Palace."

"I'm glad," Cas said firmly. He squeezed Gail's hand gently, glancing at his wife. "I never meant for any of you to feel subjugated, or less than."

"Thank you, Cas," Fazima said, nodding in acknowledgement of his comment.

"How's your brother, the cultured English gentleman?" Sabra asked Cas, and Dean burbled a laugh, which he quickly turned into a cough. Cas had ended up telling him and Sam about that little escapade, once the Tablet mission was over. When had that been, again? At Cas's bachelor party, probably. The brothers had expressed surprise that Cas was still alive, after he'd had to confess to Gail about his Royal harem. Dean wouldn't have taken that chance. No way. Uh-uh.

Gail was looking awfully mad now, but she was angry at Benoit, his government, and the way these women were being treated. She was also very, very afraid. Missing immigrants, vanishing from their homes? A sense of dread was building in her now, and as she looked at Cas, she could see that it was sounding all too familiar to him, too.

"That's why we joined the Resistance," Rashida said now, blessedly sparing Cas from having to come up with any sort of response about Crowley. Whatever might that have been. "That's why we are learning to take up arms."

"Good," Cas said, frowning deeply. "Good."

The group stayed at the ranch house for a while afterwards, brainstorming. With Eileen's assent, Cas divided up the men and women into pairs, just as he had done at the Angel Academy. They practiced hand-to-hand combat, with weapons and without, in the back yard of the house, until the sunlight started to wane. Dean and Neil and another guy, who Neil introduced as Ted, took target practice, and the men from the Resistance group were impressed at the elder Winchester's skill with whatever gun he happened to be using at the time.

Then Eileen stepped up, and her sharpshooting matched Dean's, shot for shot. After she'd emptied the clip, she stepped back, smiling slyly at Sam's older brother. "When I go to the shooting range, I don't have to wear those stupid headphones," she signed as Sam translated. "They usually make you pull a little to the left, anyway." Then she flounced away, as Dean laughed. He saw the way that Sam was looking admiringly after her, and Dean was glad. Sammy could sure do a lot worse.

After a while, everyone started to disperse, promising to be back the next day, after a good night's rest. A consensus still had not been reached as to how they were going to proceed from here. The only thing they could all agree on was that they were running out of time.

Ted drove his car down the dirt road to the highway. Neil and Celine's vehicle passed him, and Neil waved out the open window. Ted waved back, smiling.

There was no one else on the road, but Ted pulled over on the shoulder just before the ramp to the highway anyway, just to be on the safe side. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the Speed Dial for his contact.


	3. Chapter 3 – Fake News

Chapter 3 – Fake News

The horror began with a few precious moments of love, and it would end that way, too.

But before the people of the Resistance and their Angel and Winchester friends discovered what Benoit's Master Plan really was, the day began early.

Sam had told Dean, Cas and Gail to go back to the hotel without him, and the younger Winchester and Eileen had spent a very romantic night together in the ranch house. They were both in the kitchen, yawning but very happy, when the first group of people began to arrive.

Eileen put on another pot of coffee as Sam began to make breakfast for the two of them, and anyone else who hadn't eaten yet. It was obvious by the way the two of them behaved towards each other that an important dynamic had changed in their relationship.

By the time Dean, Cas and Gail arrived, they could see it, too. It was apparent to the people who were closest to Sam that this was far more than just a one-night stand on the younger Winchester's part, although exactly how it was supposed to work going forward, they were sure they didn't know. Of course, that wasn't up to any of them to decide, was it? The only thing they had to worry about right now was getting everyone out of the confrontation that they were sure was approaching alive.

As Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder on his way to the coffeemaker and the brothers exchanged a quick smile, Cas was staring at Eileen. As the leader of their ragtag militia, Cas hadn't wanted her to feel that he was usurping her position. However, he felt very strongly that Eileen needed to cede to his experience as a General in Heaven's Army. He had many, many more years of expertise planning covert attacks. The only thing that was left to be decided was where the assault should take place. The government building? Or, Levesque's home?

Gail knew that Cas wanted to talk to Eileen apart from the rest of the group, so she gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek and released his hand.

"May I talk to you for a minute?" Cas asked Eileen. "Do you need Sam to interpret, or can you read my lips all right?"

Eileen glanced at Sam. Gail had moved over now to help with the breakfast preparations, nudging the younger Winchester teasingly. Eileen allowed herself a brief smile, then shook her head. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the table, and motioned Cas to a separate room.

A few minutes later, the two of them had reached an agreement: Cas would take charge of the Resistance group, when it came time to mobilize. Eileen trusted him implicitly, she wrote. Cecile had given her life for the cause, and Eileen told Cas that she herself was prepared to do the same, if need be. Now Cas understood why she had foregone the opportunity to have Sam here as an interpreter, and he was all the more impressed. Eileen was a true soldier. He said that he would do his utmost to ensure that no one else had to make that sacrifice.

Then Eileen had scribbled down a quick explanation of why this was such a personal cause for her. The vast majority of hers and Cecile's ancestors had died in the concentration camps. The only exceptions were their great-grandmother and great-grandfather, Shoshannah and Isaac Goldstein. The couple had been lucky enough to have been chosen to work in a factory owned by a German man. He'd been very kind, seeing to it that they were paid a fair wage, with enough left over to make their escape before the Nazis had come for them. Which had been especially important, because Shoshannah had been pregnant with Eileen and Cecile's grandmother, at the time.

Cas nodded. Oh, yes. He'd heard about that man. Oskar Schindler. Hadn't he saved over a thousand Jewish people by sheltering them in that manner?

Maybe so, Eileen wrote, but the man she was talking about was named Schafer. It was funny, the similarity of the names, wasn't it? But in any event, it was due to Herr Schafer's kindness and decency that Eileen was able to be standing here right now. She had made it her life's calling to honour her family's tragic legacy. When she had seen the way the wind had seemed to be blowing in France when Benoit Levesque had been campaigning for President, Eileen and Cecile had banded together with other, like-minded people to form their Resistance group. They'd been powerless to stop his rise to power, though. Like it or not, he'd been very popular with the people of the country, and that status didn't seem to be changing much, despite his increasingly objectionable policies. Whoever had bombed Levesque's wedding reception had actually done him a favour, Eileen pointed out. Cas was nodding. It was true; public sympathy was running very high for the President right now, because of the disaster that had happened on his wedding day.

But Cas had been startled by Eileen's revelation that her ancestors had worked in a factory owned by a man named Schafer. Why did that sound so familiar?

He never got the chance to think about it, though, because Dean appeared in the doorway. "We've got a situation, here. The Egyptian lady, with the missing sister and nephew? Now she's missing, too."

The operations were set to begin. Dr. Roarke had the first wave of immigrant children and their parents and grandparents in the factory, and he was giving the young neo-Nazi men Roarke had recruited as assistants their orders. The grandparents were to be incinerated in the ovens immediately, unless they had unique blood types or anything else that could distinguish them from the others, for the purposes of his research. They were to fill out the medical forms he had created; willingly, or otherwise. If they refused, they would go to the ovens right away. If they acquiesced, and if they were chosen, the doctor might perform some experiments on them, to see if they would be useful to him.

It was the same with the parents, although if some of them were healthy and still of breeding age, Roarke would probably keep them alive, to produce more test subjects. There were a myriad of experiments he'd planned to run on the children. Most especially, Roarke was hoping to replicate the results they'd seen in Vincent's children. He'd been disappointed at the loss of half of them, but they still had Cody, Jillian, Kim, and little Gerard. Dr. Roarke now knew for certain that the adolescent boy had ceased to take his formula. But he had conveniently omitted mention of that little fact when making his report to Benoit, merely telling the President that the child was suffering from PTSD, related to the bombing. Gerard was of no use to Dr. Roarke with his powers muted. It didn't matter; they were all getting what they wanted now, weren't they?

Well, most of the evil regime that Benoit had put in place were, but unbeknownst to him, there were a couple of them in his organization who still had some human decency left in them.

Benoit had had the arrogance to believe that, since his Press Agent hadn't blinked an eye upon discovering the President's multiple dalliances, that Jean would overlook his other transgressions, as well. After all, Hamelin had prepared press releases for the President to issue publicly that blamed immigrant terrorists for the bombs that had been detonated at the reception hall. Benoit was sure that Monsieur Hamelin was on board with the cleansing program.

The President was also convinced that Cody was on board, but that impression was more due to a misunderstanding, than anything else. They'd had their little chat after Benoit had left a shocked and subdued Michelle at home to digest the story of the compound, Vincent's cruelties there, and Ben's and Dr. Roarke's heroic rescue of a handful of the children, before Vincent had blown the remainder of them up. He'd assured his wife that Dr. Roarke had given Gerard a sedative, but that the child was not dangerous; he was merely suffering from PTSD. But, right now, Benoit had to go and talk to Cody. The young man was likely suffering from PTSD as well, but Benoit wanted to have a little talk with Cody anyway, and gently remind him that he wasn't supposed to be using his powers like that. They'd all talked about it, when Ben had brought them over here. He would give the older ones jobs and set them up with places to live, but they had to promise him in return that they wouldn't go running around doing all kinds of supernatural things, Ben had explained to Michelle with gentle good humour. People didn't generally believe in or understand that kind of stuff, and hadn't those kids suffered enough without being ostracized, or Heaven forbid, persecuted?

Michelle had been left alone to think about all that, and Benoit had gone to the factory to talk to Cody. They'd sorted out the matter with Gerard, and they had actually had a bit of a laugh, when Benoit had told Cody he'd appreciated the free additions to the back yard. Then, the subject of conversation had come around to the experiments that Dr. Roarke was going to be performing here at the factory. Would Cody be willing to assist the doctor in his work?

Still thinking that Roarke was working on a cure for cancer, Cody had readily assented. And Benoit had left the facility then, satisfied that Cody was also on board.

Thus advised, Dr. Roarke had ushered Jean Hamelin and Cody onto the factory floor, and given them jobs to do. Monsieur Hamelin was to reassure the subjects that they were helping to advance medical science, and Cody was to begin taking their medical history.

This sounded reasonable enough to both men, at least at the outset. Cody was a little puzzled, because he remembered back to his conversation with poor Toby, his half-brother who had been murdered at the reception hall by those terrorist bastards. Toby had probably seen them, and they'd killed him to keep him from reporting it to anyone. Anyway, when Cody and Toby had talked about the work Dr. Roarke was doing here, they'd assumed he was experimenting on animals, because of the cages he'd brought in. But now, Cody thought that maybe he'd progressed to using human subjects. Roarke worked nearly 24/7; he must be really dedicated to his work. Maybe he'd lost someone in his family to cancer, like Cody had.

Dr. Roarke headed off to his lab, leaving Jean and Cody to make their way out onto the factory floor. And when they saw the occupants of the cages, and the young neo-Nazis stoking the fires for the crematoriums, they understood how truly naïve they'd been.

"What should we do now?" Hamelin said to Cody, whispering out of the side of his mouth.

Cody was gaping openly. How the hell should HE know? The shock had rendered him speechless. What the flying fu-

"I'm gonna take as many pictures with my phone as I can, without those skinhead dudes catching me," Cody said, ducking behind a post. "You're the Press Agent. Get a hold of the press! We've got to get this out to the public!"

Hamelin nodded curtly. The young man was right. It was time to put aside his shock, and take action. This was horrifying, and the French public needed to find out what their President was really trying to pull, here.

Jean pulled out his own phone and hit the Speed Dial for the French Foreign Press. This story needed to go global. As Cody was snapping photos, Jean panicked when no one answered. He hung up, sending a text to the wire service instead. Get set for the story of the century, he typed furiously. Photos to follow. Then he pressed Send.

And then, just like every movie cliché from every action film the men had ever seen, they got caught.

Dr. Roarke had immobilized both men, once he'd realized what they were doing. It was a good thing that he'd gone back onto the factory floor when he had. Unlike Benoit, the Angel had been far more skeptical when it came to the belief that those two were as willing to go along with the Master Plan as Benoit seemed to think. So he had merely told Hamelin and young Cody that he was going to the lab, but the doctor had doubled back, to see what their reactions were going to be, once they'd seen.

Dr. Roarke snatched the cell phones out of their hands, and then he called Benoit immediately. The President had better come to the facility right now. Roarke would normally come to get him, but he was a little busy, at the moment. Then the doctor had pushed the button, disconnecting the call.

But, seeing as he was an older, long-serving Angel, that had been the extent of Dr. Roarke's knowledge of cell phones. While waiting for Benoit to get there, the doctor was peering at them now, thinking he should try to erase the mens' most recent communications. The trouble was, he had no idea how to do that.

Roarke thrust the phones at Cody, frustrated. "Delete those communications, immediately," he ordered the young man.

Cody was standing against the pillar, completely immobilized. Oh, crap. Holy crap. This was bad. He looked at Jean, who was immobilized opposite him. What the hell were they going to do? He asked the Press Agent non-verbally, and in a surreal moment, Jean's eyebrow raised, and Cody realized he already knew. He had to do what was right, no matter what the consequences were.

"Uhh...I can't move, dude," Cody said, glaring at Dr. Roarke.

The Angel sighed. "Fine." He waved his hand, releasing Cody's arms, but not the rest of his body. The doctor put the cell phones in Cody's hands. "Here. But don't try anything else," Roarke said sternly. "I can pop you right over there into one of those ovens, if you do."

Dammit, Cody thought. He swallowed, hard. Then he took his cell phone and pushed a couple of buttons. "Oops," he said sarcastically. "Looks like I sent them, instead." He and Jean exchanged brief grins, as Dr. Roarke fumed.

Benoit had had his chauffeur, Luc, take him to the facility, telling the man to hurry as fast as he could. The President was pacing the office floor now, livid. He was also very, very concerned: What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to explain those pictures to the public? Children in cages, their parents in chains? Snivelling, begging to be set free during the intervals when Roarke's sedation wore off?

"I'll tell you," Jean spoke up suddenly.

Cody swivelled his head to look at the Press Agent, so fast and so hard that the young man's neck cracked painfully. What the hell?

"I'll tell you how to spin this, for a price," Jean continued. "And, you'd better make it a good one, because it'll be my 'getting out of Dodge' money, as the Americans would say. Right, Cody? Maybe I'll go over there, and try my luck. From everything my friends in the international press corps tell me, you and the one they've got over there think very much alike, Benoit. He could probably greatly benefit from the type of whitewashing services I can provide. Literally, and figuratively," he added sarcastically. "I've cleaned up your messes for far too long, Benoit," Jean continued, "but I want no part of this."

Benoit considered, for a moment. So, it was a payoff Hamelin was after. The President could do that. What he needed now was a way to deal with the situation as it existed, and Jean Hamelin was the best in the business.

"Fine; I'll pay you," Benoit said to the man. "Now: how do we deal with this mess that the two of you have created?" Levesque made sure to emphasize that last part. He was a generally unfeeling man, as most sociopaths were, but Hamelin's comment about cleaning up Benoit's messes had stung a bit. It had also angered him. But, if Hamelin had something good for him now, he would put his feelings aside for the moment.

"You do an open-air State of the Union address on the Champs d'Elysses," Jean told him. "Announce the time on social media. Say you're going to explain about the pictures. The people will show up in droves, and when they do, you tell them the photos are a misunderstanding. They're part of a smear campaign. The factory pictures were taken from an old file, from the facility where the Paris Zoo used to send animals that needed to be humanely euthanized. The kids were photoshopped into the cages, to make you look bad. And yes, if people want to check the deed for the place, they'll find your name on it as the owner. That's because the factory was shut down, and you bought it to repurpose it into a viable workplace, to give jobs to the legal immigrants who need work. You'll say that you know you might come across as intolerant to certain groups sometimes, because of your tough but necessary stance on immigration, so you just wanted to let your countrymen know that you've heard their concerns, and you're trying your best to address them."

Benoit was listening thoughtfully and intently. That was damn good, actually. It might just work. He knew that other world leaders obfuscated facts all the time. Some of them out-and-out lied. It all came down to what the people were willing to believe. What he was doing here was for the greater good.

"That might just do the trick," he said slowly, looking at the Press Agent speculatively. "But, what if they don't believe those photos have been altered?"

Jean grinned slyly. "You know me, Benoit, so you knew I would have a contingency up my sleeve. In that case, you change the story slightly. You say that you brought some of the immigrant families to the facility, so you could get their input on the working environment and conditions they'd like to see. Some of them brought their kids, and while you were all taking the tour, some of the kids wandered into the cages, and that's when the pictures were taken."

Benoit let out a frustrated breath. "Which is all very well and good, but: why are the children crying?"

Jean's grin grew wider, and Cody's stomach clenched. At first, he'd thought that Hamelin was setting Benoit up, or something. Now, he wasn't so sure, any more. The guy's smile was giving him the creeps. Was he really going to hand Levesque the way to get out of this disgusting, horrifying situation, on a silver platter?

Apparently, he was. "You can blame that on Roarke," he told Benoit. "The damn guy's been working with animals for so long that he doesn't know how to talk to people, any more. He made the mistake of telling the kids what the cages were there for, and that was why they were crying. You should be able to do something with that. You know the drill. It was all a big misunderstanding. You'll talk to Roarke about his 'people skills'. Blah, blah, blah. If the temperature feels right, yuk it up a bit. But if not, you'll be all bewildered. Tell the people you have no idea why someone is trying to make you look so bad, when all you're trying to do is take care of your countrymen...and women. ALL of them."

Benoit was impressed. "That's good," he said, nodding slowly. "That's damn good. No wonder you have the reputation of being one of the best in the business." He reached into his pocket. "Well worth the price." He pulled out the gun. "It's a shame that man in America is going to have to do without you."

He put the gun to Jean's temple and shot him, twice. Blood and brain matter splattered in Cody's face. The young man was terrified, now. If Benoit could do that to somebody who was helping him, what the hell was he going to do to Cody? He thought about using his powers to drop something on Levesque, maybe knock him out, but the guy was waving the gun a little too close to Cody's face now, and -

" - Don't even think about it," Benoit said to Cody in a harsh voice. He gestured to Jean's body with the gun, and Dr. Roarke nodded. "Take THAT, and put it in the ovens, with the first batch," Benoit ordered the doctor.

Oh, my God! Cody thought wildly. It sounded like he was talking about baking cookies, or something. But, they were human beings. Human beings! Holy shit! The young man continued to think, feeling nearly hysterical with fear and dread, now. How could he have been so blind? Then suddenly, a voice from inside his head: WERE you? Were you, really? What the hell did you think he wanted with all those weapons Toby made for him? Was he taking them to garden parties?

Benoit was looking calmly at Cody now, assessing him. He would really like to keep the young man around, if he could. Levesque had lost half of his special contingent, already. "Are we going to have a problem, here?" Benoit asked Cody.

"No. No, Sir," the young man stammered quickly. "It's all good. Whatever you need."

"Hmm," Benoit mused aloud, frowning. "All right. Here's what's going to happen, then. I have a State of the Union speech to deliver, right now. You'll stay here with Dr. Roarke, and when I'm done, we'll talk some more. Agreed?"

Cody let out a slow, relieved breath. "Yes. Agreed. Sir," he added, just for good measure. If Benoit left him alive here, Cody could work on figuring out an escape plan, while Levesque was making his speech.

"Oh, but just in case you get any ideas..." Benoit took Cody's cell phone out of his own pocket and smashed it on the desk. It shattered into pieces. Hamelin's phone had gone with him, into the ovens.

The President smiled grimly at the young man. "You'll thank me, later," he said calmly. "I find that young people are way too dependent on technology, these days."

Dr. Roarke came back into the office. He'd had a couple of his young assistants take care of Hamelin's body; he was neither a servant, nor a thug. Benoit gave the doctor a look, and then nodded his head almost imperceptibly towards Cody.

Roarke got it. He was diabolical but not stupid, or slow. Once Benoit was gone, the doctor would search young Cody's mind and see if he was really going to cooperate, or not. If not, Roarke could modify Cody's memory, or Benoit could order the young man's death. It didn't matter to Dr. Roarke either way.

Benoit strode out of the facility, not sparing a glance toward the factory floor. He had a very important speech to make.

The people in the Resistance, the Angels, the Winchesters, and the two remaining Egyptian businesswomen were strategizing now.

"Even though it's the higher-risk option, I believe we should storm the government building," Cas was saying. "Not only would we have the opportunity to seize the three remaining young adults from the compound, but we can check the files to see if we can find out where those missing people are." If they're still alive, he thought but did not say.

Then Cas looked at Eileen. "Are there any other inside people in the cabinet?"

Sam moved forward to help interpret, but Eileen waved him off. Like Cas, she was switching into soldier mode now. "No," she signed, shaking her head for emphasis.

Cas nodded, as the two leaders continued to stare at each other. Cas was pretty sure she'd gotten his inference. They would spend minutes only, attempting to locate the information. Then, the interrogations would begin.

"Benoit Levesque will die today," Cas said firmly, "but we may have to leave him and some of his staff alive, until we recover everyone who is missing." He looked at Fazima and Sabra. "Have you ladies got any idea how many people have gone missing from your district?"

As they were thinking about that, a man named Will came in from the back area, where the Resistance members had been parking as they came in. "Fire up the TV," he said. "I just heard on the radio that Levesque's gonna give a State of the Union speech, in about an hour. They're giving more information on Channel Eight."

Neil and Ted were closest to the sitting room, so they rushed in there now and turned on the TV.

"In an unprecedented move, President Levesque will deliver an open-air speech at 2 pm on the West side of the Champs d'Elysses. All members of the public are welcome," the anchorwoman said, in French, of course. Cas translated softly for the Winchesters. Everyone else who was assembled understood the language, and the TV had the Closed-Captioned feature for Eileen.

"Reports are that the President will be addressing the issue of those photos that went viral, earlier today," the woman continued.

"He'll certainly have a lot of explaining to do, when it comes to those," her co-anchor said, a concerned expression on his face. "This will be the first real controversy Levesque has faced since he took office."

"That's true, but at least he's being transparent about it," the anchorwoman said. "Not too many world leaders can say the same."

"Well, I for one will look forward to hearing what he has to say," the man added. "For those of you who may just be tuning in, these pictures were posted earlier today, from an unknown and unsubstantiated source."

The photos Cody had taken with his phone appeared on the screen. Because he'd taken them so quickly, and from a hiding place, most weren't of the best quality. But there was enough clarity for the Resistance members to react.

Eileen mouthed a vicious swear word. She didn't bother to make the sign for it. Those assembled were all thinking the same thing.

"Pack your weapons. We mobilize in an hour," Cas said in a harsh voice, and Gail touched his arm. It was the only thing she could think of to do to comfort him, at the moment. Cas was in General mode now, and they needed him to be that way. But she could hear the raw emotion in his voice, and see it behind his eyes. What they had just seen was incomprehensible. Little kids, in cages, crying. Adults, presumably their parents and grandparents, in chains. It looked like a factory or a warehouse of some sort, and just beyond where the people were...were those...?

"Ovens," Celine said, dazed. "Crematory ovens. My uncle worked in a funeral home." She looked beside her at her husband, but Neil wasn't there. Had he left the room? Neil was a big, tough guy, but he was a real marshmallow when it came to little kids who were crying. Then again, who wouldn't be, under these circumstances? Maybe she'd give him a minute.

"Anybody need any more weapons?" Dean said, and his voice was also harsh with anger. "We can get you anything you need. This son of a bitch is going down, hard."

Sam was nodding grimly, but as usual, his mind was working a mile a minute. "They said it was going to be an open-air speech, right?" he said to the others. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Yeah," Celine confirmed. "Outdoors, wide open venue. I guess they figured pretty much the entire population will want to be there. France is kind of old-fashioned that way. They like to look their politicians in the face when they're being lied to."

"Well, then, that means they couldn't possibly check everyone for weapons, doesn't it?" Sam said hesitantly. "I mean, with those kinds of crowds..."

He'd been almost unconsciously signing what he was saying for Eileen at the same time, but she was right there with him, and she agreed. If even just a few of them could get close to Levesque, all it would take would be a well-placed bullet. Or ten.

"The assassination is a given, but we have to find out where that facility is, too," Cas weighed in. "If what we fear is true, killing Levesque won't save those people."

"Good luck getting close to him. He knows who you all are, right?" Ted said. Their heads turned to look at the doorway of the room, where an enraged Neil was pulling Ted by the arm, pointing a gun at the man's head.

"This traitorous bastard's been on the inside this whole time, getting intel on us," Neil said angrily, shoving Ted into a chair. "When we were watching the news report, I turned around to say something to him, but he wasn't there. He was in the bathroom, leaving a Voice Mail on some guy's phone, telling him about our plans!"

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed.

"Who did you leave the message with?" Cas growled. Suddenly, his blade was in his hand, and it was pointed at Ted's throat.

Ted shrugged. "You don't have to threaten me, I'll tell you. My cover's been blown, anyway. I'm with Interpol."

"Interpol?" Eileen signed. "You expect us to believe that?"

"It's true," Ted insisted. "We've been investigating Levesque for years now, ever since he began campaigning for the Presidency. There were all kinds of rumours going around about him having been the leader of Les Rebelles Blancs, and even further back, that his father Martin had Nazi ties. But there's no proof, not one scrap of evidence."

"I've read that Interpol doesn't get involved in politics," Sam said.

Ted nodded. "That's usually true. But, we take genocide very seriously. I was leaving a message for my supervisor when Neil found me."

"You talked about proof; well, what proof do WE have that you're telling the truth?" Celine inquired.

"Good question," Dean chimed in. He had his gun out now too, just on general principles.

"Hang on," Gail said. She motioned to Sam, and the two of them walked away from the group. They were talking quietly, so no one in the room could hear. Eileen could read lips, of course, but they were turned partially away from her. She squinted. "Heaven." "God." Were they praying? What the – Oh. No. No, they couldn't be, because Eileen distinctly saw Sam say "Bobby", right afterwards. She loved watching him talk. Last night when they'd been in bed together, he had taken her hand and put it on his throat when he'd been talking, so she could feel the vibration there. It had been such a sweet and meaningful gesture. In the short time they'd been acquainted, Eileen had gotten to know Sam Winchester better than any other man she'd ever been with. That was why she felt relieved, now that she realized they couldn't be praying. Religion was all well and good, but this wasn't a time for prayers, it was a time for action. She glanced at Cas. This man and his wife might be Angels, but they had their priorities in order.

"We'll be right back," Gail announced. She took Sam's arm, and they vanished.

Cas nodded. He knew where they were going. Bobby would be able to confirm the man's identity, one way or the other. Cas was very glad that Gail had taken Sam aside to bring up the subject, though. They had of necessity told this group who and what they were, but it was best not to delve further, into more complicated issues. The inevitable questions would always arise: If they knew God personally and had all of Heaven behind them, couldn't the Angels just have God smite all the right people, save the innocent ones, and make everything OK, again? But it was never that simple, was it? Cas had had that same thought process time and time again, and time and time again, the lesson had been reinforced, sometimes very harshly. Castiel had seen Gail try to heal him in the Garden, right after Cain had killed him. God had chuckled indulgently at the time, and He had admonished her as a Father would have done. But even back then, the warning had been issued: These things are not for you to change. There were countless other examples throughout Cas's existence, times when he had tried to change the status quo only to be picked up by the scruff of his neck and rebuffed, either gently, or otherwise. God couldn't simply waltz down to Earth and mop up His children's messes. What was He, a deity, or a cleaning service? The brutal truth was that sometimes, humans were brutal. Life wasn't fair, and the good guys didn't always win. Some people were killers, and some would be killed. Death would have his precious sacrifices, one way or the other. Cas knew that, and with one look at her face, he realized that Eileen did, too. They weren't here to lift up their arms in supplication and ask God to bail them out. They were here to fight for what was right, and if some or all of them died while they were doing it, that was just the price to be paid. Cecile had known that. So had her and Eileen's relatives, the ones who hadn't made it out of those camps.

No, Bobby wasn't going to ride in here behind a team of fire-breathing horses and save them all. But as far as Castiel was concerned, he didn't need to. This group here was going to set things right, before the sun went down tonight. By any means necessary.

Sam and Gail were back in just a few minutes. "He's legit," Sam told everyone. He grinned briefly at Dean and Cas. "Our mutual friend had a few words to say, and some of them were choice. He said to call him if you need him, and that he's still working on that other project."

Cas nodded curtly. That would be the Beast, of course. But they had this to deal with first, and he refused to lose focus.

Dean and Neil slowly lowered their weapons, and Ted breathed a sigh of relief. But Cas was looking at the man with narrowed eyes. "Why did you say what you said earlier? That we couldn't get close to him, because he knows who we all are?"

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Ted said matter-of-factly. "That was why you couldn't let Levesque see you at the wedding, and why Gail had to alter her appearance. You and your Winchester friends are all compromised. Do you think he doesn't already know that you're here, and what you're planning?"

"What about us?" Neil said, gesturing to everyone else in the room.

Ted was thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I don't know how good his intel is. Look, I know you thought I was an inside man here, but the truth is, I'm not. Not even for Interpol. I joined this group on my own, in my own personal capacity. I haven't said anything to my organization about who you are, or what you're doing. I joined all of you here because I'm LIKE all of you. Sometimes, bureaucracy and paperwork and going through the proper channels doesn't cut it. But I took an oath with the police force, and the dental plan is good." Neil smirked, and Ted continued, "I left a message with my supervisor, all right, but if Neil had really been listening, all he would have heard is that I told my boss I might need some backup, later today. That was just in case things really go south. But frankly, I don't think we're going to need it. I suggest we send me, Eileen, Neil and Will in, as the first team. Celine, too, if she wants. In fact, that might be better. Say what you want about enlightenment, but the fact is, women won't be viewed as that much of a threat. Eileen, you can say you need to get up close because you want to read his lips."

"Hey!" Sam objected, but Eileen was nodding, and so was Cas. That made perfect sense.

"Yeah? What about US?" Dean said, gesturing in frustration. "I know he knows what we look like, but if what you guys say is true, there'll be thousands and thousands of people there. We could wear hats, or something. But if you think we're sitting this out, you're - " He bit off his sentence. For a second, he felt so bitterly angry that he couldn't even finish. Dean felt the same way Cas did. They had let the son of a bitch slither away before; there was no way it was happening again.

Eileen made a sign, and Sam's brow furrowed. Then she did it again, slower, and the younger Winchester barked out a laugh. "Meshuggah," he said to Dean. "It means - "

"I know what it means," Dean said, tipping Eileen a salute. "Yeah. That."

They all shared a brief smile, and then it was agreed: Dean and Sam would go, but they would stay further back, and try to keep their faces hidden. Dean was one of their best sharpshooters, Eileen knew, and so she really wanted him there. The more, the better. Besides, they also had three of Vincent's adult children to concern themselves with. She instructed everyone to look at the pictures of Jillian, Cody and Kim that Gail had taken. If any one of those three were spotted at the venue, whoever did the spotting was to call Cas on his cell phone immediately. Cas checked his phone to make sure it was fully charged, and that everyone had the number.

"Where would you like us to be, Cas?" Fazima asked the Angel, motioning to herself and Sabra.

Cas and Eileen exchanged glances. "I want you two to stay here," he said, and the Egyptian womens' lips pursed together.

"Why?" Sabra demanded. "I know we're not very good with guns yet, but - "

"That's not it. It's because of our ethnicity, isn't it?" Fazima said to Cas.

He frowned. "Yes, it is," he responded honestly. "Knowing the kind of man he is, and the kind of regime he's put in place, we can't risk it. What if the two of you were to go missing, too? We can't execute the mission properly if we have to watch over you, too."

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Will piped up. "You and Gail can't go, either. He knows the both of you, and those kids know Gail, too."

"I hate to admit it, but he's right," Neil added. "I know you want this guy, Cas, and I understand why. Believe me, I do. But, you and Gail are a liability."

Cas's jaw set, and his eyes narrowed. Gail's heart sank. Logically, she knew that Neil was absolutely right. But she knew that look of Cas's, too. It was one of her husband's most human expressions. Logic be damned; Cas was determined to go, and so, he was going. He had a personal score to settle, and if Sam and Dean were going, there was no way Cas was going to trust their protection to relative strangers, as dedicated as they may be.

But the facts couldn't be denied, either. If Gail and Cas were "made", as they said in the movies, the mission could be blown sky-high. There was no way his Secret Service, or whatever the equivalent was here, would expose Levesque to a potential assassination attempt by one of the Angels. To Benoit, they would be the most dangerous ones, because they could pop in and out of anywhere in an instant. In fact, Gail was sure that was exactly what Cas had in mind. He would probably be just as happy if none of the humans went. But this was bigger than the two of them, and it was bigger than Cas's ego. However the job got done, it needed to get done.

Cas was still staring at Neil, though, and Gail wondered if there was going to be an altercation between the men. Then, Cas gave Neil a sort of funny half-smile. "Exactly what sort of sacrifice would you and your wife be willing to make for the cause?" Cas asked the Canadian couple.

As usual, it was Gail who had to make the adjustment. Although Neil was slightly taller and thicker around the middle than Cas, the men had a similar enough build. But Celine was taller than Gail, with long legs and a willowy frame.

Cas had been pleasantly surprised when the couple had assented to be possessed by the Angels. Neil hadn't been too wild about the idea, but Celine had readily agreed to make the sacrifice, and her husband had acceded to her wishes. Much like the husband and wife who were now occupying their vessels, Cas thought, looking warmly at Gail.

She was still trying to get used to her new body. Celine had such long arms, and long legs, too. Gail looked at Sam, shaking her head. "How do you DO it? Where do you put everything?"

Eileen had read her lips, and the deaf woman grinned. She gave Gail a thumbs-up in appreciation of the lighthearted moment.

"Remind me to laugh at you, later," Dean said to Gail. This was weird, but he'd seen weirder from those two. There was that time they'd possessed Frank and Jody. That had been right up there on the weirdness scale. The silver lining for the rest of them had been the brief break in PDAs from the couple. Neither Cas nor Gail had wanted to smooch the other one while they were inhabiting their respective brother and sister-in-law. Dean smirked inwardly. The only thing that would have been funnier was if they had switched genders. Maybe he'd see if he could talk them into THAT, next time. But then, he shook his head. It still hurt to think about Jody being gone, and what they were all about to do was some pretty serious stuff. They could save the laughing for later, when that Nazi bastard was dead as a doornail, and those kids were reunited with their families.

"Let's roll," Dean said to the group.

They were at the venue now, and Gail was looking all around her, astonished. Boy, they hadn't been kidding. There were thousands and thousands of people here, and more were still arriving. Now she wondered if she and Cas had needed to even bother to inhabit other vessels. But then, she looked more closely. There were troops of armed guards around the stage area, and circling the perimeter of the huge square where the people were gathering. Those guards appeared to be scrutinizing as many faces as they could. In addition, she now noticed that there were men and women weaving in and out of the crowd scanning faces as well, and those people had some kind of official-looking badges on the lapels of their suits. Yep, it was a good thing she and Cas weren't here as themselves. Gail relaxed a bit, and then she started to scan the faces of the crowd, too. Just as Benoit and his goons wouldn't recognize her and Cas in these bodies, nor would Vincent's children recognize Gail as Celine.

Of course, she and the rest of their team might not recognize one of Vincent's kids, either. Gail's heart sank as she remembered that Kim the changeling could look like anyone, and likely would. Great.

Cas grabbed Gail's hand and they threaded through the crowd, trying to get closer to the stage area. Eileen and Ted and Will were already up there. Sam and Dean were further back, as discussed, and the rest of the Resistance members were interspersed among the spectators. Except for the Egyptian women, who had reluctantly given in to Cas's request that they stay at the ranch house. They could watch over Neil's and Celine's vessels, and if any of their group spotted one of Vincent's remaining offspring, Cas was going to subdue that young person and bring them to the house for questioning. So the women would fulfill a very important function by staying behind, Cas told them. Fazima and Sabra had smiled sadly, appreciating his comments, which had just enough of a ring of truth in them to spare their feelings.

Gail allowed herself a brief smile as she followed Cas through the crowd. She kept expecting him to call her "Short Stuff". She would have to tease Neil after all of this was over that he was the only man other than her husband she would let take her hand and lead her around this way. See what he did with that. He really did remind her of Frank, in many ways. Which made Gail think of Eileen, and how strong she was. Just a short while ago, Sam's girlfriend's sister had been blown to bits. Yet here was Eileen, surging towards the stage, ready to kill or be killed. Which got Gail thinking about Sam, and Dean too. Where were they? She hoped they were being careful, avoiding all those people who were scanning everyone's faces. They were wearing hats, but still. Sam was so tall...

Dean had already brought that fact up to his brother. As if Sam didn't know, the younger Winchester thought, rolling his eyes. No matter how stressful the situation was that the brothers found themselves in, there was always that little moment of levity between them, to take the sharpest edge off of the tension they felt.

Sam had thought that wearing some kind of hat might have called even more attention to him, specifically because of his height. So he had opted for a cloth beanie instead, pulling it down over his hair and his forehead. Dean had a baseball cap on, the brim pulled down as far as it would go without obscuring his sight.

The brothers had been meandering their way through the crowd, being careful to stay away from the armed guards who were stationed on the perimeter of the square. So far, they'd been very lucky. Nobody had searched them or even accosted them, although they could see people with bags being searched, and ladies with purses, too. Both Sam and Dean were carrying, but their weapons were concealed. So, unless they were physically searched, or someone ran one of those wands over them, they were pretty sure they'd gotten away with it.

Sam was staring at the stage area. He and Dean were far enough away from it to be unobserved by the armed guards who were deployed on both sides, but Sam continued to stare at the centre of the stage. There was a lone microphone stand set up there. That was it; just the mic. No podium; nothing else. It looked weird to Sam. The group had told him that things worked differently here in France, but Sam couldn't imagine the leader of the entire nation standing there with only that one skinny microphone stand for protection. Plus, he was supposed to be making a speech; where was the lectern, for his notes?

The younger Winchester had been so lost in thought that he'd allowed himself to get separated from Dean. He searched the crowd frantically for the top of Dean's head. What colour was that ballcap, again? Oh, right. There it was. The height that his older brother always teased Sam about worked to his advantage now as he spotted Dean up ahead. He hurried to catch up.

Eileen, Ted and Will were standing close to the stage now. The men had been accosted and searched by armed guards, but had been deemed clean. Before they'd left the headquarters, the trio had agreed that if they were going to try to get as close to the stage as possible, they'd better not get caught with any guns on them. Will had honoured the agreement, but Ted and Eileen had not. Being a member of an elite police force had its advantages, and Ted had a gun concealed on his person that he was confident would not be found in a standard search. Fortunately for him, he'd been right.

Eileen had gambled that the guards wouldn't bother to search her at all, not once the men told them why she needed to be close to the stage. And, sure enough, it had been the press conference all over again. Once she'd started signing and gesturing toward the stage, the guards had just waved her on.

As the leader of the Resistance and her companions neared the front of the crowd, she wondered how the others were faring. Eileen tried to look back behind them, but all she could see was a sea of people standing shoulder to shoulder, jockeying for position. This was starting to remind her of video footage she'd seen of large gatherings of people, like New Year's Eve in Times Square, or the Million Man March, in Washington. The latter would be more politically apt, she supposed, but Eileen grinned briefly when she thought about the good people of New York. The news reports said the throngs of people in Times Square made it impossible for those in the centre of the crowd to leave, should they need to go to the washroom. Yikes.

She continued to watch the crowd. Men, women, even children. Old people. People in all manner of dress, from torn blue jeans to business suits. Predominantly white, with just a sprinkle of colour, here and there. Eileen wasn't smiling now. She wondered if many of the ethnic people were staying away out of fear. Probably. This was starting to look like it had the potential to deteriorate into a kind of mob mentality situation. If Levesque said and did whatever he could to explain away those incriminating photos and get this crowd on his side, there was no telling what might happen.

Well, Eileen had the remedy for that. She had one of her best and most powerful guns in an ankle holster strapped to her leg, and she couldn't wait to use it. Cas had told her that he might need Levesque alive, but Eileen didn't give a crap. She was here to strike a blow for all the people of France. The immigrants whose only crime had been to come here and try to make a good life for themselves and their families. The ladies who Cas had known in Egypt, who had worked hard to be recognized as people, not possessions. People like Neil and Celine and Ted and Will and the others, who had joined a fight they had no personal stake in, simply because it was the right thing to do. People like Cecile, who had bravely given her life to see that justice was done. Well, Cecile and the rest of them were going to receive justice this afternoon. Eileen was going to see to that, personally.

Kim's back hurt a lot today. So much so that when it came time to go to the venue, he couldn't go as himself.

Benoit had wanted him and Jillian among the crowd, the President had told them. He wanted them to look around and see if they could spot Gail, Cas, Sam or Dean, and if so, to have a couple of the guards grab them immediately. Kim and his half-sister knew who Gail was, of course, and Benoit had shown them pictures of the men. The armed guards had two kinds of handcuffs on their duty belts: one pair that had sigils carved into them, and one regular pair. Dr. Roarke had shown the squad leaders the special pair with the symbols to be used on the woman and her husband, but he had not elaborated beyond that. Most of the men had been more than a little curious, but their job was not to ask questions, but to follow orders.

It was more or less the same with Jillian and Kim. The girl gave Benoit a half-shrug when he'd told her he wanted her circulating throughout the crowd. It was what she always did, although this would be a much larger venue. This time it would be a bit more difficult to maneuver in and out of a crowd, though, because she still had the cast on her arm from the injury she'd sustained in the bombings at the reception. But she wore a sling to help with the weight of the cast and she still had one good arm, so Jillian was good to go.

It was much harder for Kim. He had his good days and his bad days, but today, the pain in his back was almost debilitating. He'd popped a few painkillers which had reduced the pain to a constant ache, but that was the best he could do. There must be rain coming up in the forecast, he'd thought. Great. Kim was in his mid-twenties, and his body felt like an old person's.

That was what had prompted the inspiration: if he was going to feel like an old geezer, he supposed he should look like one, too. It would appear weird for a young guy like Kim to be gimping around like his great-grandfather, and the idea was to spot those guys before they spotted him. Gail knew Kim as a young Asian man, and he was sure that she would have given those guys pictures of him and the other kids from the compound, just the same as Benoit had given Kim and the others pictures of Gail's husband and friends.

Not that there were very many of them left from the compound, now. There were just Kim, Jillian, Cody, and Gerard. It was strange; Benoit hadn't mentioned Cody at all. Maybe Cody was helping Roarke do whatever research he was doing at that factory. Kim didn't know what it was, and he didn't really care. All he knew was that his back had better smarten up, and soon. There was no way an intelligent young man like him with so much to offer was going to walk around like an old fogey for the rest of his life.

Sam had caught up to his brother now, but Dean was no longer moving. He was staring at an old lady who was hobbling along on the outside fringe of the crowd, leaning on a cane.

"What's up?" Sam asked his older brother. "What are you looking at?"

"That old lady," Dean replied, nodding his head in the person's direction.

"Ummm...why?" Sam said, his forehead wrinkling.

"I don't know," Dean said slowly. "There's just something weird about her. Hinky, like Ethan would say."

"What makes you say that?" Sam persisted, looking at the woman more closely.

Dean was having a hard time articulating what he was feeling. "She just looks... I don't know, Sam." His expression brightened. "Remember Mrs. Doubtfire?"

"I remember you, yelling at the TV when it was on," Sam replied, his lips twitching.

"Oh, come on. It was so obvious that was a guy," Dean retorted. "It's the same thing with that one," he added, pointing. "It's the way she's moving. It just looks...wrong."

Sam was grinning now. "OK, Dean, I know you watch The Golden Girls sometimes, when I'm not around. You say you don't, but I know you do. Aren't you a little young for her?"

"Shut up, Sammy," Dean shot back. His jaw set determinedly. "I'm following her. You stay here. Keep looking. We've gotta find those kids, so we can find out where they've got those people they're gonna..." He trailed off. He couldn't finish that sentence. It was too ugly to even think about, let alone to say it out loud.

Sam nodded. He agreed. "OK, but, be careful," he said to his brother. "If you need backup, call me on my cell. I've got it set to Vibrate, so I'll feel it. If many more people get here, we probably won't be able to hear our phones go off, anyway. Or you could pray to Cas, or Gail. They may not look like themselves right now, but they're still Angels."

Dean gave his brother a curt nod. "Same goes for you," he told Sam. Then he turned and walked away.

Kim was gimping along, using his cane, looking at as many people's faces as he could. But now, the young man who was currently posing as a much older woman was having another problem. He clutched at his stomach. Oh, no. Not now! Geez!

Maybe he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him, or maybe he'd thrown himself a little too enthusiastically into his role. Whatever the reason was, Kim had to go to the washroom, and he had to go right now. Abandoning the pretext, he rushed to the edge of the square, growing more and more frantic. Despite his back pain, he dropped the cane and straightened up his stance, eyes searching around, not for people to identify, but for a toilet.

Wait: there would be one on the bus. The President had told Kim and Jillian that he would be using the same bus he used for functions like this, where the head of France wanted to appear less elitist, and more like a leader that the people could identify with. All Kim had to do was get to the bus, and then he would be all set.

He pushed his way out of the crowd, and then, miracle of miracles, Kim spotted it. The bus was parked on one of the side streets. It had guards around it, but if he could just get there in time...

Kim morphed into his real appearance, urging himself forward. He didn't really care if anyone had seen, or not. He doubted if anyone had noticed him, though. He was outside the square now, moving away from the crowds. He knew he looked kind of weird, now: a young Asian guy in a blouse, a cardigan, and a long skirt. But the need was so urgent now, he didn't care how he was dressed. He had to have his own face to get on that bus. Most of the President's staff knew Kim, and he had his government ID in the bamboo purse he was carrying.

Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm. "Gotcha," Dean said with a grim smile.

As Dean was manhandling Kim away from the crowds, Sam spotted Jillian, gingerly making her way through the middle of the throng.

The girl was supposed to be looking for the people Benoit had asked them to find, but she was preoccupied with her injured arm, at the moment. As the crowd grew in size, she was being bumped and jostled, and her arm was starting to hurt. Unlike Kim, she hadn't taken any painkillers prior to the event. Pain pills sedated her, blunting her powers. Her primary purpose for being here was to help find Gail and the others, but Jillian was only too willing to spread the hate and resentment she felt amongst the crowd. The more people who hated their fellow man, the better.

But Jillian was finding it increasingly more difficult now as the crowds grew and grew, and there was less room to move. She touched two men with her good hand, and they began to argue, and then to fight. She pushed through some people and grabbed a woman by the arm. The woman looked at her furiously, but Jillian was on the move again.

She bumped into a very tall man who was wearing a cloth beanie on his head, and the two of them recognized each other instantly, from the photographs they had been shown.

Now, Sam remembered that he had seen Jillian's picture before, from the dossier that he and Gail and Rob had put together. Dean had given his younger brother a hard time, of course, saying, "Why can't you just say 'file', like a normal person?" Sam had told Eileen that story, and she had shown Sam the sign for "Screw you", telling him to drop THAT on his big brother, next time. Sam had laughed so hard at that, that the sip of beer he'd taken had nearly come out of his nose. He'd have to teach that one to Gail, too, Sam had told his new girlfriend, and they'd laughed together.

"Jillian?" Sam said to the young girl.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing. "You're Sam Winchester," she countered with. "You came here to kill the President, didn't you?"

Dean had pulled Kim into an alleyway in-between office buildings so they wouldn't be seen, and the elder Winchester had his gun out now. Kim was terrified. The only good thing about this whole thing was that he was so scared he had forgotten all about his urgent need to use the bathroom, for the moment.

Now Kim recognized this guy as Dean Winchester, one of the people he'd been sent here to find. But, what the hell was Kim supposed to do about it?

Dean knew he was supposed to call Cas, but he had the kid here now, and he looked scared green. What did Dean need Cas for? Kim was going to tell Dean where those people were being held, and he was going to tell him now.

Sam was trying to reason with Jillian. "Don't you know what's going on?" he asked her. "Don't you know what kind of man Levesque is?"

"Maybe I don't care," she said, and then she grabbed his arm. "And maybe YOU don't, either."

"Where's he keeping those people?" Dean demanded, raising his voice. His gun was pressed against Kim's temple, and the young man quaked with fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kim whimpered. His eyes darted to the side, hoping to spot one of the guards pass by. Then he would yell for help, at the top of his lungs. This guy wouldn't dare shoot Kim in front of witnesses, and then the guards could arrest him, which was what was supposed to have happened in the first place. Man, where WERE those guards? There had to be about a million of them, out there.

Then, Kim had an idea. He'd seen it work in the movies. He pretended to spot one of the guards, looking behind Dean to make it convincing. "Help! Guards!" Kim shouted.

Dean began to turn around, and as he did, Kim wrenched himself free from his grasp, hiked up his skirt, and began to run down the alleyway, towards the promenade, still shouting.

Crap! Dean thought wildly. If that kid gets away... He crouched down into a shooter's stance and pumped off three shots, in quick succession.

Kim sprawled forward onto the pavement, bleeding from his wounds. Dean ran up to the young man, dropping to one knee beside him.

Inexplicably, Kim was smiling. "Thanks, man," he said weakly. "My back doesn't hurt, any more." Then his smile faded. "Watch out for Jerry," he added. Then he closed his eyes, and then he died.

As Sam and Jillian stood in the middle of the crowd staring at each other, Sam was beginning to wonder what the hell he was doing here. This wasn't his fight. It wasn't even his country. How did this stuff keep on happening to him? Any minute now, this girl was going to have Sam arrested by armed guards, who were the militia for a Fascist government. This wasn't going to end well for him. They would take him somewhere to be tortured and interrogated, trying to make him give them the members of the Resistance. Sam had withstood a lot of pain over the years, but would he be able to hold up against something like that? Maybe they would just avoid the Christmas rush and put a bullet in his skull right away, or shove him into one of those crematory ovens. Maybe they would put him in there while he was still alive. Wouldn't that be the most horrifying thing of all? Laying there, feeling it get hotter and hotter, seeing the flames licking at your feet. Yelling at the top of your lungs, until the acrid smoke filled your throat and you lost your voice. Smelling your own flesh cooking, even before you felt any pain...

No. No way. Uh-uh. Let Cas just bring some Angels with him, next time. He was supposed to be their friend, but Cas sure had a funny way of showing it. He just kept dragging Sam and Dean, and even his own wife, into these messes, making them risk their lives in countries all over the globe, and for what? So Cas could look like a big hero? Cas had been prepared to kill Sam's son, for goodness' sake. OK; Sam knew that Damien was Vincent's son, now. But, still...what if he hadn't been? It was easy for Cas to spout off about all these Heavenly missions, but the guy wasn't human, was he?

Cas had sent Eileen up to the front of the crowd, and Sam knew that Eileen had a gun. She'd told the others she didn't, but Sam knew she did. What if SHE got caught? Had Cas even thought about that? He probably didn't care. Collateral damage, right? Just another soldier. What did Cas care if Sam loved Eileen?

Wait, what? Sam shook his head vigorously. He loved Eileen. Wow. Holy moly. And why did he love Eileen? Because she was smart, and funny, and lovable. Because she had the strength of her convictions, and because she took crap from no one. Like another woman Sam knew very well. And yes, he loved Gail, too. Of course he did. Just like he loved Dean, and Cas, and Frank. The love he felt for Eileen was different, though. Poor Quinn had never gotten the best that Sam Winchester had to offer, because he hadn't been emotionally ready to give it to her. Wilma had just been a fling. But he felt like he was finally ready to love Eileen the way that someone like her deserved to be loved.

Sam looked at Jillian. "I know what you tried to do there, but it won't work. Love always triumphs hate. Always."

"Really?" the young woman said scornfully. "My father used to tell me that he loved me, too. All the time. Every time he raped me, he told me he loved me. Just like Benoit loves the people of France." She reached into her sling with her good hand and pulled out the gun. "Don't talk to me about love. I'm going to help my President kill as many people as possible, and then I'm going to watch as all of these people turn on each other, and tear each other limb from limb. Won't that be fun?"

Sam grabbed her gun hand and twisted the wrist, trying to make her drop the gun. Jillian put as much hatred as she could into their body contact, but Sam kept Eileen's face in his mind as he wrestled Jillian for the weapon.

"Attention, Mesdames and Messieurs," a voice announced over the loudspeakers, drowning out the sound of the shot.

"If we can have your attention, President Levesque is about to take the stage," the man said into the microphone.

Sam let Jillian's body drop, as the crowd pushed forward. No one appeared to have seen or heard the shot that had killed the girl. Her body was trampled as people moved closer to the stage, and Sam was carried along with them, like a fish swimming with the current.

Ted and Will heard the announcement, but Eileen did not, of course. But they all saw the movement, in front and on the sides of the stage. A sheet of bulletproof glass was rising up from the edges of the floor, covering the stage area. Eileen laughed derisively. Of course. She should have figured as much. The coward. So much for that plan. She crossed her fingers. Hopefully, Cas would just pop himself in there, and take care of what she now couldn't. Eileen knew their Angel friend would just love to kill the bastard. Cas had said they might need Benoit alive, to find out where the immigrants were being kept, but he'd also said that if they could get the information from one of Vincent's offspring, they wouldn't need Levesque. Eileen began to pray for the latter.

But, of course, there were no young people to get the information from, any more. Dean had killed Kim, and Sam had killed Jillian. They'd had their reasons, but now, the brothers realized they'd screwed up. Either one or both should have called for backup right away, like they were supposed to have done. As the brothers searched for each other now in the crowd, the only hope they had hinged on the last of the adult kids, Cody. Hopefully, somebody had found him somewhere in the crowd.

That wouldn't be happening, though. Cody was locked in a cage at the moment, awaiting his own execution, at the very place that the Resistance needed to find.

And the only other child of Vincent's from the compound was being carried onstage by his father now, for extra insurance.


	4. Chapter 4 - Take It To The Limit

Chapter 4 – Take It To The Limit

Benoit had gone home prior to the speech to prepare his remarks, and to talk to Michelle. He didn't want her to have to hear about this elsewhere. They had just been through a bit of a situation, and he wanted to appear as transparent with his new bride as he was with the public. Actually, Michelle would prove to be a fair sounding board for the story he was going to tell.

The President had viewed the news footage prior to talking to his wife, and it was a good thing he had. The photos were a bit more incriminating than he'd been led to believe. The newscasters seemed to be ready to give him the benefit of the doubt for the most part, but there appeared to be growing unrest among the citizens. Benoit had better be on his best game.

So he'd sat Michelle down, holding her hands in his and looking her directly in the eye. He was so very sorry that their marriage had started out this way. The life of a world leader was never easy. Once you had risen to the highest pinnacle, there were always people who were lurking in the shadows, just waiting to tear you down. He promised with all his heart that he would make it up to her once everything quieted down, but right now, they had another problem.

Michelle was beyond astonished. She had just started to accept what Ben had told her about the kids and the compound, and now, there was this. Had things been this volatile here, the whole time? Whenever she and Ben had talked before, he had never mentioned any turmoil. That was because there hadn't been much, he told her with a wry smile, just politics. Business as usual, when your business was running a major country with a prominent place on the world's stage. You had to be all things to all people. But no one could be all things to all people, and you couldn't please all of the people all of the time. Benoit did the best he could for his country, and the French people that he loved.

Then, he pulled out his phone and showed Michelle the photos that were posted on social media, frowning deeply. He told her the story he was going to tell the public in just a short while. Much of the tale came directly from the suggestions that his dear departed Press Agent had given the President, but he'd had to improvise on the fly a little, now that Benoit had seen that the photos revealed a little more than he'd originally believed.

When he'd finished his explanation, Benoit gazed intently at his wife, waiting for her reaction.

"That's horrifying," Michelle said in a hushed voice. Silence. Then she went on, "How can they do this to you? Oh, Ben. I can't believe people could be so..." Her voice faltered. She tried again. "I can't believe people would slander you like this! Why would they DO that?"

Benoit smiled inwardly, but he maintained his earnest expression. "As I was saying, there are people out there who want nothing more than for their leaders to fail. In any event, I have to make my speech in just over an hour, and I pray that the citizens will be as understanding as you are about the situation."

Michelle put her arms around her husband and gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. Then he rose and said he was going to check on Gerard, and then he would have to leave.

Gerard was awake when Benoit went to his son's room. The boy had been sitting morosely on his bed, wondering if he and Cody were going to be in trouble. Maybe he should just stay in his room for a while, in case his Papa was angry with him.

The boy looked up apprehensively when his father entered the room. "I'm sorry, Papa," he said in a subdued tone. "I know that what we did was bad."

Benoit sat on the edge of the bed. "That's all right, Gerard. Your mother was a little upset, but I talked to her, and she's fine, now." Then, something occurred to him: "What did you mean, when you said 'we' were bad? Cody is the one who used his powers."

Gerard hung his head. "Oui, Papa, but I almost hurt him. I almost used my powers, too. Please, don't be mad." The boy started to cry as he haltingly told his father about the fact that he hadn't been drinking his special drinks for some time now, and the reason for it. "But I haven't done anything wrong, I promise! Tell Cody I'm sorry, Papa. Tell Maman Michelle she doesn't have to be upset. Please. I'll be good."

Benoit embraced his son, telling him it would be all right; that Gerard was forgiven. But the President's diabolical mind was already hard at work. He was more than a little annoyed that he hadn't known about this before, but this was no time to dwell on the past. The question was, how could he use it to his advantage, going forward?

The President chucked the boy gently under his chin. "How would you like to help your Papa with something very important?" he asked Gerard.

Cas cursed viciously when Levesque took the stage holding his son in his arms. The bulletproof glass was one thing, but according to Gail, Benoit's young boy had near-nuclear-type powers. For a hot moment, Cas considered just popping up there and taking them, anyway. Since he had received no reports concerning the others from the compound, he would have to take Levesque alive. But, what of the child? It would be irresponsible of Cas to put all of these people in jeopardy just because he himself was angry.

The President began to give his speech, holding on to his son the entire time. At first, a number of people shouted out from the crowd, demanding a reasonable explanation for the photos they'd seen, or in some cases, only heard about. But Benoit weaved his tale of misunderstandings and slanderous accusations, striking the perfect balance between bewilderment, and righteous indignation. In an inspired ad lib, the President theorized that the very same terrorists who had bombed his wedding reception were probably behind this scurrilous attempt to defame him. Levesque's investigative team had advised the President that they were making excellent progress in their investigation, and the offenders were running scared. Well, they weren't going to get away with their horrible crimes. Many wonderful people had died that day, and Benoit joined his fellow countrymen-and-women in mourning each and every one of them.

Which brought Benoit to his son Gerard, who he continued to hold in his arms. By now, he thought he could chance a lightly humorous remark, saying that his speech would conclude in just a moment, because Gerard was getting to be too big to hold for long periods of time, these days. Gerard and Benoit's new bride Michelle had miraculously survived the multiple explosions, something Benoit thanked God for, every minute of every day. But Gerard was so traumatized by the event that the boy had regressed, psychologically speaking.

On cue, Gerard put his thumb in his mouth, and a murmur went through the crowd. Then, Benoit reminded everyone that terrorists had wiped out Gerard's entire family, and a tear ran down his son's cheek, melting the hearts of those assembled.

It was perfect. Benoit quit while he was ahead, vowing to the assembled crowd that he would continue on in his quest to keep the citizens of France free from fear, and that the people responsible for these recent crimes would be brought to justice. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his government and everyone in their great country against those who would seek to harm any of them, regardless of their skin colour. He thanked those who had come for their kind attention, then told them he'd better get his son home. In a wonderfully heartwarming moment, Gerard popped his thumb out of his mouth and waved to the crowd, and then the President was gone.

The crowd started to disperse, and most of them were talking amongst themselves now. Some were smiling and even laughing as they talked about how cute that kid was, and others were grim-faced, saying they hoped those terrorist bastards were caught soon.

Cas was livid. Once the crowds had thinned out a bit, which had occurred in a surprisingly orderly fashion, he took his cell phone out of Neil's pants pocket and called Dean.

Dean and Sam had somehow managed to find each other, and they had already made their way to the edge of the square. They told their Angel friend where they were, and then Cas called Ted, giving him the rendezvous spot. Then Cas grabbed Gail by the hand and winked the both of them over to where the Winchesters were waiting, with no regard for discretion.

His humour didn't improve when the brothers told him that both Kim and Jillian were dead, and that neither Winchester had seen Cody.

"How are we supposed to find out where they're holding those people now, provided they haven't killed them already?" Cas shouted at the brothers. "You were supposed to have called me! I would have transported them to headquarters for interrogation!"

"We're sorry, man," Dean said in a subdued tone, and Gail did a double-take. She didn't believe she'd ever heard Dean like that before. She put her hand on her husband's arm and he took a couple of deep breaths, attempting to calm down. What was done was done. They needed to regroup.

Once the remainder of the Resistance group arrived, the Angels teleported them back to the headquarters without another word.

Michelle had gone downstairs shortly after Benoit left the house to make his speech, and her head was still spinning from everything that had happened and everything she had learned since her wedding day.

And, since her head was spinning already, the First Lady of France wandered into the study to fix herself a drink. She sat in one of the armchairs, took a long swallow from her glass, and then set it down on the table.

She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Taken individually, the incidents were entirely plausible, despite the fact that many of them were on the surreal end of the believability scale. Michelle laughed shortly. If she didn't know better, she'd swear she was a jinx, or something. It seemed as though all of these terrible things had begun to happen the moment Michelle's plane had landed. First had come poor Lorrie's accident, and subsequent suicide. It occurred to Michelle now that she had never received any details as to how the girl's face had been disfigured. How did something like that happen to an office worker? She hadn't pressed Ben for information at the time because she'd been so shocked, and she hadn't wanted to upset him any further. Plus, she'd been preoccupied with the upcoming wedding.

Then had come the bombings at the reception, and Michelle had been so relieved that their family was safe, yet so traumatized by the experience, that she had accepted being caged up in this house without protest. But then there had been the incident with Cody and Gerard, and the fact that Ben's valet, whose name she had forgotten again, had destroyed her cell phone when she'd tried to call Dean for advice. Who DID that? Ben had excused the man's action, saying he'd merely been overenthusiastic in following his boss's instructions. But, honestly, who DID that?

So Ben had told her the truth about the kids from the compound, then. Finally. Why hadn't he told her about that before they'd gotten married? OK, it was stretching the limits of believability, and if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she would have said he was crazy. But she HAD seen it with her own eyes, and so, even though it seemed like she was living in the middle of a Stephen King book, Michelle really had no choice but to accept it as reality.

And now, the icing on the crap cake her life had suddenly become: Benoit, heading downtown to make a speech to the citizens of France, trying to convince them that he wasn't Hitler, 2.0. She had accepted his explanation for those disgusting images because it had been fairly convincing, and because Michelle had vowed to love and be loyal to him. But, at what point did enough become enough? At what point did she admit to herself that there was something very, very wrong, here?

She chugged the rest of her drink and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Ben should be taking the stage to make his speech in a couple of minutes. She needed to see that speech.

Michelle rose from her chair and started to leave the room. They had a TV in their bedroom. Benoit had joked that they probably wouldn't be using it much, considering that they were newlyweds. But he would also be working late at the office from time to time, and he knew how much Americans liked to watch television, so he'd put it in for her. Michelle had thought it to be a very sweet gesture on his part, at the time. Now, she felt a little insulted. Ben was always making subtle digs at Americans, and American culture. Of course, he wasn't the only Frenchman she'd ever met that did that. The French people seemed to think that they were superior to people from the U.S., in some way. Even though Michelle herself spoke French, she had seen some of the locals smirking out of the corner of her eye, because she spoke a different sort of French than they did. In short, in her opinion, many Parisians were snobs. But Michelle didn't really hold that against them. She didn't even hold it against her husband. Apparently, she just wanted to be mad at him, at the moment.

She'd almost made it out the study door when she turned back. She strode over to where her empty glass sat and snatched it up from the table, refilling it at the bar. Then, she went upstairs.

Coverage of the upcoming speech was on every station. Michelle sat on the end of the bed and watched as the newscasters reiterated the reason for the President's address, and showed the photos again. Now that Michelle was seeing them on a bigger screen and hearing the reporters' remarks, the pictures seemed much more incriminating. Or was it just that she wanted to incriminate her husband, now?

The camera cut to the stage, and the announcer said that the President was about to speak. Michelle tensed. A moment later, she gasped. Benoit took the stage, holding Gerard in his arms! Why was he doing that?

Michelle's blood ran cold. She had been thinking just a few minutes ago that she felt as if her life resembled a Stephen King novel, and now, a very clear image was forming in her mind's eye. There had been one story about a politician who'd grabbed someone's child to hold in front of him, when a guy had been shooting at him. That politician, whatever his name had been, had been very popular with the people, but he'd also been a very different kind of man than the public had thought him to be.

She watched Ben's face intently as he spoke to the crowd in a smooth and charming manner, just like he spoke to her. The swarms of people had started out restless-looking and catcalling, but the more Ben spoke, the more attentive they became. It was amazing. It was as if he was using mass hypnotism on the thousands upon thousands of people gathered in the square. And, truthfully, Michelle guessed he kind of was: he had certainly used those skills on her, hadn't he?

The nauseous feeling grew in Benoit's wife's stomach as she watched him play on the crowd's sympathies using his own son's emotional vulnerability. But Ben was lying now, and Michelle knew it. He was telling the people that Gerard was paralyzed with fear, but she knew that wasn't true. Was he simply embellishing, just to get the crowd on his side?

When the speech ended, Michelle shut off the TV, finished her drink, and went downstairs.

Cas and Gail were back in their own bodies now, and Cas was berating the Winchesters.

"What were you thinking?" he shouted at Sam.

"It was an accident, Cas," the younger Winchester said earnestly. "She pulled a gun on me, and I was trying to disarm her when the gun went off." He saw no point in mentioning that Jillian had been doing her damnedest to poison his mind prior to that, and for a couple of minutes, she had succeeded.

"What about Kim?" Cas wheeled on Dean now.

"He was gonna get away," Dean insisted. He was trying to keep his own temper now. He'd already apologized for screwing up, but Cas was just looking to rip a strip off somebody because the mission had been a bust. "If he'd gotten away, he could have been anybody in that crowd, Cas," Dean pointed out, hoping that Cas wouldn't remind him that he was supposed to have called Cas right away as soon as he'd had the kid.

Gail was holding her tongue for the moment, but she didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to do that. She'd tried to calm Cas down earlier, but now, she was starting to come around to his side. Geez, seeing as they had rung in the New Year with Sam and Dean threatening to kill their Angel friends over Damien being the Beast, something that Cas had turned out to be one hundred percent RIGHT about, you'd think they would listen to him more, she thought irritably. But maybe she'd better not stir up the hornet's nest right now. It wouldn't be very constructive.

"Sam, fire up the computer," she instructed the younger Winchester instead. "We need to look at those pictures again." He looked at her with a distasteful expression, but he was already moving to the desk where Eileen's computer was set up. She'd given him her password a few days prior.

Gail had seen the look on Sam's face, and she was nodding. "I know, I feel the same way," she remarked. "But this is an investigation, so we have to investigate, right? Let's enlarge the photos, and see if we can see anything in the background that might identify the facility, or the location, or anything. Hey, wait a minute," she added, suddenly remembering: "Can you look up ownership records for warehouses, or factories? He said he's the owner of record in that stupid speech of his, didn't he?"

"He's a filthy liar, who blasphemed my Father's name to cover up for his crimes," Cas seethed. She looked at her husband. Wow. Not that she could blame him, but his eyes were flashing a bright blue now, and blue sparks were issuing from his fingertips. Yikes. "I will set him to burn," Cas continued, "and then I will implore God to restore his life, so I can do it all over again."

Everyone had fallen silent, and they were all staring uneasily at him now. Gail moved swiftly over to where Cas stood. "OK, sweetie, we all understand how you feel," Gail said soothingly. "Believe me, we do. But maybe, let's just tone it down a little, right now. Save it for when we get a hold of him, okay? You're starting to scare people."

"No, he's not," Eileen signed, as Sam translated for her. "I just wish I had that blue stuff you've got going on, Cas." She smiled grimly, continuing to sign, with her hands flying a mile a minute. "Just do me a favour, and promise me that I can be there, when you smite the crap out of him."

There was silence in the room for a moment after Sam finished his translation, and then Cas smiled slowly. Eileen's smile became more genuine, and the tension was eased.

"Let me at that computer," Eileen signed, pulling up a chair beside Sam. "I'LL help YOU translate, for a change, from French to English."

As Sam moved aside to make room for his lady friend, Cas took Gail by the elbow and steered her to the side of the room.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said quietly, "but I'm feeling..." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "I'm feeling so strange, about this entire situation. I'm angry at myself, more than at anyone else. I have failed, so badly, and so often - "

Gail cut him off. "No, Cas. I don't want to hear you say that any more. We all share responsibility: you, Dean, Sam, and me. Maybe me, most of all. I should have just killed him at that compound. I had a golden opportunity. He was right there, Cas!" Her husband opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hands. "I know what you're going to say, Cas. The kids. We were trying to keep the kids alive. But nearly all of them are dead now anyway, aren't they?" Her eyes started to fill with tears of anger and frustration. "How many more people are going to die, because I let him live?"

Cas took her in his arms, and the Angels sought comfort from each other. Cas kissed Gail tenderly, and she touched his face.

Unfortunately, their warm and loving moment was a brief respite, only. A few minutes later, Sam announced that there were no factories or warehouses in Paris or the surrounding towns that listed Benoit Levesque as a registered owner.

"That figures," Neil fumed, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Can you at least get anything from those damn pictures, anything, just to narrow it down?"

"No," Sam said glumly. "Everybody is welcome to look and see if there's anything we missed, but we can't see anything that distinguishes this place from any other industrial facility."

"Great," Dean remarked. "Just great. So, what now?"

Cody was sitting on the floor of his cage, his knees tucked up to his chin. Geez. Oh, geez. This thing just kept getting worse and worse, all the time. Roarke had given him a shot of some kind of serum and then stuffed him in here, telling the young man that he was too busy to keep an eye on him. Benoit would deal with Cody himself, when he returned.

At least they weren't killing anybody yet, but Cody knew that it was only a matter of time. The other prisoners seemed to be sedated at the moment, and it was fairly quiet on the factory floor. The kids were crying silently and the parents and grandparents were either dozing with their heads on their chests, or talking softly to each other.

It was so quiet, in fact, that Cody could hear some of the young guys talking. Most of them were skinheads, with various offensive-looking tattoos, but a couple of the older ones looked and spoke a bit differently, like they were military, or something. Cody had seen pictures of the Nazi Youth online, so that was what he had dubbed these guys in his mind.

Anyway, the Nazi Youth were talking about planting explosives, which was horrifying enough; but what was puzzling to Cody was that they were talking about setting off these bombs in an upscale, predominantly white neighbourhood that the locals had nicknamed "Dreamland Estates". That was because most working-class people, even if they had decent jobs, could only ever dream of living there. It was, of course, in the same general vicinity as the President's mansion.

Wait a minute, Cody thought to himself, thoroughly confused. He kept his head down, so he wouldn't appear to be listening. Not that they were paying any attention to the occupants of the cages, anyway. Which, if he thought about that, was even scarier. In the movies, the bad guys didn't worry about the people they were going to kill knowing about their evil plans. In fact, they usually told their hapless victims everything at great length, enabling those victims to figure out some kind of a clever way to escape. Cody almost smiled. But this wasn't a movie, it was real life, and he was locked away in a mesh cage. Yeah. Not gonna happen.

So, since he couldn't do anything about his current predicament, Cody put his mind back to work on the puzzle: Why on earth would Nazis want to bomb rich white people?

His question was answered almost immediately, because there were at least a couple of members of the Nazi Youth who weren't quite playing with a full deck, Cody realized. His brain automatically dubbed them Hans and Franz. That had been those musclebound German guys in those comedy sketches, right?Boy, was Cody hilarious. At this rate, he was going to laugh himself to death.

"Why the hell are we bombing Dreamland Estates?" Hans asked his cohorts. Obviously, he was a local boy too, Cody thought sardonically.

"Yeah," Franz chimed in. "Those are our own people. Why aren't we hitting the South side?"

There was silence for a moment, and then one of the men Cody thought of as being a military guy said, "Isn't it obvious? The President is telling the people of France that it's these filthy immigrants that are doing the bombings. Well, they're not going to bomb themselves, are they? They're going to target us. The white race."

"The right race," another one of them piped up, and a few of the Neanderthals laughed.

But Hans was still uneasy; either that, or he was just too stupid to get it, Cody thought: "If we plant bombs at Dreamland, we'll be blowing up white people," the young man objected.

Cody could hear the annoyance in Mister Military's voice. "Collateral damage," he said in a clipped tone. "Strategy. The news coverage will be concentrated on the area where the latest terrorist strikes have occurred, supplanting the 'fake news' photos that the President refuted today, in his speech."

"That's right," another one of the Nazi Youth said confidently. "People can be as politically correct as they want, but we all know the truth: people care way more about white people dying than they do about immigrants dying. Just look at these ones, here." Cody could hear the sneer in his voice, and he could picture the racist asshole gesturing to the cages. "How long has it been since we started rounding them up? But I haven't seen anything in the news about it. Nothing. Nobody's looking for them, because nobody gives a damn about them. The way I see it, we're doing France a huge favour."

Rashida had her head on her chest, and she was pretending to doze. It was hard not to react to what she was hearing, though. How DARE they? She'd thought the culture in which she'd been raised in Egypt was bad, but this was far, far worse. These bastards were planning on killing old people, and children. Rashida's young son, Hassam, was in one of their damn cages, as were many of the other neighbourhood children. She had heard Hassam wailing loudly an hour or so ago, calling for her, and Rashida had felt like her heart was being squeezed in a vise. She would gladly give her life if it would mean that he and the other children would live. Rashida had had no idea, when she'd been a member of the group of wives at the Royal Palace in Egypt, that she would ever become a single mother with a partnership in her own business venture, several years down the road. It had seemed like such a wonderfully empowering existence, until Levesque had taken office and begun to institute his racist immigration policies. Rashida wondered how her sister and Fazima and the others in the Resistance were faring. Obviously, they hadn't been able to do anything to stop Levesque; in fact, the situation was escalating. Rashida knew that Sabra would be frantic to find the place where they were being held, but would they be able to do so before it was too late?

Rashida's mind was working a mile a minute, even as she appeared to be dozing. They couldn't rely on others for their salvation; they would have to save themselves. But, how? She risked a quick glance at the young Caucasian man who was curled up in a ball on the floor of the cage directly opposite the post where she was chained. The Egyptian woman had a very strong feeling that he was doing the same thing she was. Feigning semi-consciousness. Could she consider him a potential ally, if she could perceive an opportunity for escape?

However, there was nothing to do at the moment but wait. Unfortunately, even though Rashida could close her eyes, she couldn't close her ears. The hateful rhetoric continued until one of the young men said, "We should just shove them into the ovens, right now. What are we waiting for?"

"Not until we receive our orders," the man Cody thought of as Mister Military said firmly.

"When's THAT gonna be?" either Hans or Franz piped up. Cody wasn't sure which one it was, any more. Did it even matter?

"He should be finished his speech by now," the man answered. "We're just waiting for our instructions."

Cody's blood ran cold. Oh, shit. They were almost out of time. He raised his head now, eyes darting around. Some of the kids were starting to stir, and others were standing with their noses pressed against the wire mesh, looking so scared and forlorn that Cody had to turn his head so that he didn't start crying, himself. He glanced nervously in the direction of the ovens. How would it feel to be shoved in there, alive? How would that work? Would you die instantly, or would you be able to smell your own flesh cooking, like you could smell a roast chicken, when the skin started to turn brown? He shuddered, praying that they would cook him first, so he wouldn't have to hear the kids, screaming. Was that selfish?

No. The hell with that. Cody wasn't dead yet, and neither were his fellow prisoners. It ain't over till it's over, he told himself. If he was gonna pray, he wasn't going to pray for a quick death. No; he was going to pray for those kids, and for their parents. Cody hadn't prayed in years, but when his foster mom had still been healthy, she'd encouraged him to say his prayers every night. And he had, right up until her diagnosis. Then, he had prayed even more. Prayed that she would get better. Well, she didn't. Instead, she had died, and Cody had stopped praying. What the hell was the point? But he had run out of options now, and beggars couldn't be choosers. There must be a reason they called it a "Hail Mary" pass in football, right?

Cody bowed his head again.

Benoit and Gerard were heading home in the limousine. It had taken a while to get out of the downtown area because of the crowds, but they were finally making progress.

Earlier, Kim had spotted the bus that Levesque and his team had used during the campaign and for certain public events, but today, it had been there to drop off and pick up the armed guards, only. The President had stationed Luc in a hidden location, then called his chauffeur when he was ready to leave. He and his son were travelling home in comfort. Gerard was enjoying a soft drink and watching some sort of an animated kids' movie on the small television screen. Benoit was having a glass of wine, congratulating himself on a job well done.

The President's private cell phone rang. There were only a handful of people who had that number. He pulled the phone out of his pocket.

It was Michelle, and he could hear that she was very upset.

"I'm packing my bags," she said, without preliminary. "I'm getting an annulment."

Benoit waited for a beat, and then all he could think of to say was: "Why?" This was odd; she'd been fine when he'd left for his speech. Had she somehow found a way to contact her American friends, even though Benoit's valet had destroyed her cell phone, and she was supposed to stay in the house?

"Because I can't trust you, Ben. You lied to me," Michelle responded.

The President glanced at Gerard. The boy appeared to be engrossed in the movie, but Benoit had better be discreet, just to be safe. "I would like to talk about this," he said cautiously. "Can we - "

She interrupted him. "No. No more talking. I wouldn't believe a word you said, anyway."

Benoit's free hand curled into a fist, for a moment. He hated to be interrupted, and he hated to be called a liar, and she had just done both. He took a deep breath, trying to hold his temper. "We need to talk about this," he tried again.

"No, we don't," Michelle said firmly. "I'm packing. I'm done. My ex-husband used to lie to me all the time. You know that, Ben. I told you that, when you asked me to marry you, and you said you'd always be straight with me."

"I have been - " Benoit said, but she cut him off again.

"Save it, Ben," Michelle said in a trembling voice. She was not going to cry. She was NOT going to cry. "At least I learned one thing from my divorce: fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I don't want to hear any more lies. The only person I really feel bad for in this whole messed-up situation is Jerry. I'm not sure what the real story is with him and the others, but I do know that he needs help, Ben. Please get him some help. None of this is his fault. Tell him - " Her throat dried up. "Never mind. Don't tell him anything. I don't want to be responsible for any more of his pain. Goodbye, Ben."

Then, incredibly, she hung up. Benoit looked at his phone for a moment, and then he looked down at his son. Gerard. Not Jerry. Gerard. Benoit put his cell phone back into his suit jacket and picked up the receiver from the cubbyhole next to him.

"Luc, please turn the car around, immediately," the President said calmly. "Take us to my office, downtown."

Gerard looked at his Papa as Benoit put the receiver back. The President could already feel the limousine slowing down, as Luc prepared to turn around and go back in the opposite direction. Good man.

Benoit's adopted son said nothing, but the man was aware of the boy's scrutiny. He'd better continue to use discretion in his communications. He took his cell phone out again and called Dr. Roarke, who had been waiting at the facility for his instructions. "There's been a slight addition to the plans," he said to the evil Angel, without preliminary. "As well as Dreamland, I want you to proceed with Operation Oklahoma City, immediately. Priority One."

He hung up the phone, without waiting for a response. Roarke was another of his aides that he could rely on to obey orders unquestioningly, and time was of the essence.

Gerard was still looking at Benoit, so his adoptive father said, "We have to stop by my office, downtown. I need to do something very important there, something that can't wait. But, I'll tell you what: I'm going to have a very nice girl, one of the office assistants, look after you while I do my government business. You two can play some games. How would you like that?"

"Sure, Papa," Gerard said with a half-shrug. As far as the boy was concerned, it was nice just to be out of the house. It had been exciting, seeing all of those people and watching them listen to his father speak. Gerard had been to press conferences with his Papa before, of course, but this had been above and beyond anything the young child had ever been exposed to. As he had been watching the movie in the back of the car afterwards, Gerard had been thinking that he might want to get into politics himself, when he grew up. Imagine being loved by that many people. Wow.

Benoit hadn't really known what he was going to do about young Gerard when he'd instructed Luc to turn around; he'd just known there was no way he could take the boy home, not under the circumstances. But the sudden inspiration to have Katrina look after his son was pure genius. He searched the Contacts on his phone, and hit her number on the Speed Dial. Katrina was indeed one of the office assistants, and Benoit had considered grooming her to be much more. Even before Lorrie's and Ursula's deaths, he'd had his eye on Katrina as a potential mistress. She was young, attractive, and just a little bit naïve. A perfect combination. Recently, she had told the President that she would love to be of more service to him, and even though there may not have been any sort of innuendo to what she had said, Benoit thought he could work with that.

"Katrina?" he said when she answered. "It's Benoit Levesque. I'm calling to ask you for a favour."

"Certainly, Monsieur President," the young woman said quickly.

"I'm bringing my son into the office with me," he advised her. "I have an urgent matter of state to attend to, and I know you live close to the building. Would you consider coming in and keeping Gerard company, for a short while? I would consider it a huge personal favour."

"Sure, Monsieur. I would be glad to do that," Katrina replied. She'd just watched the President's speech on TV, and she'd seen his little son wave at the crowd. The boy was adorable. And it never hurt to have the most powerful man in the land owe you a favour.

Benoit hung up, sitting back in the back seat. There. He thought for a moment, now: was there anything he'd forgotten?

"What about Cody, Papa?" Gerard piped up. "Can't he look after me?"

Cody. Right. The President let out a slow breath. Yes, Cody would have to be dealt with, as well. "I'm sorry, Gerard, but Cody is busy taking care of some very important things for me," he told his son smoothly. "But you'll like Katrina, I promise. She's very nice."

Gerard sighed. "OK, Papa," he said in a small voice, taking a sip of his soft drink.

Levesque had been right about Dr. Roarke. The instant he had received the revised instructions, the Angel had taken action. He had gone out to the floor and told the Nazi Youth that they were going to mobilize. But instead of going to Dreamland Estates, they were going somewhere else, first.

The young man looked at each other, curious. They grabbed the duffel bags that contained the bombs and other weapons the unfortunate Toby had made, and then Roarke winked them out of the facility.

They reappeared on the back lawn of the property. "Start setting up," Roarke ordered the men. "I'll be right back."

The Angel popped into the Levesque mansion, directly into Benoit's home office. There was no chance of encountering Michelle, because Benoit kept his office locked up tight as a drum. The armed guards were still outside patrolling the perimeter, but they paid no attention to Roarke or the young men in his charge. They had all been carefully chosen, and briefed on the various scenarios that could occur at the site.

Dr. Roarke opened the wall safe in Benoit's office and took out the cloth bags, then stuffed the bundles of cash, jewels, and confidential documents into them.

Once he'd emptied the safe, the Angel reappeared outside. The Nazi Youth had deployed the explosives as instructed, and the two of them who actually did serve in the French military, as Cody'd suspected, were standing at attention. But Hans and Franz and the others were exchanging puzzled looks now.

"Proceed," Dr. Roarke said calmly, and one of them cleared his throat.

"Uhhhh...you want us to blow up the President's house?" the young man asked hesitantly.

"Those are the orders," Roarke said crisply. "The President and his family are in an undisclosed location, and they are safe."

"Oh, I get it," one of the other youths said slowly. The one that Cody thought of as Mister Military smirked briefly. Apparently, even the dimmest of bulbs shone, once in a while. "When this comes out in the news," the young man continued, "everybody's gonna know that the President is innocent, because the friggin' terrorists blew up his damn house!" He smiled proudly.

Dr. Roarke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Well, these men weren't here for their intellectual input, were they? Still, the young man was quite correct, in this situation. Benoit had been planning this for a while. It was diabolical, and it was extreme. But once Operation Oklahoma City was carried out, public sympathy would definitely lay with the President. Many of the valuable family heirlooms and artifacts from the War had already been transferred to a secure storage facility, and Benoit had instructed Dr. Roarke to clean out the safe. Anything else in the house was disposable. The President was a very wealthy man.

The young men moved to their positions around the perimeter of the house, preparing to detonate the bombs.

Dr. Roarke winked over to the office building, where the President was waiting in his office. The Angel teleported Levesque to the facility, and they stood on the shop floor, near the cages.

"Your house will explode in approximately ten minutes," the doctor told the President dispassionately. "I have secured the valuables, as you requested. The domestic staff and Ms. Delacroix will be the unfortunate victims of the latest terrorist attack. But it was a good thing that you and your son ran into a traffic jam; otherwise, the two of you might well have been there, too. First will be your home, and then, Dreamland Estates will fall. After today, there will be no doubt that the terrorists are immigrants, who must be stopped at any cost."

Benoit nodded. "Well done," he said approvingly.

Cody was sweating bullets, now. Holy crap! The President was going to blow up his wife? He was going to blow up his own wife! How could he do that? How evil WAS he? Uhh...who was Cody kidding? All he had to do was look around at the little kids in cages, their families in chains, and those ovens. Asked, and answered.

If he'd thought he was praying fervently before, Cody boosted the signal now. Please, God. Please. None of these people deserve to die. Michelle is a nice lady. One of the girls who worked in the kitchen was pregnant. Last time Cody was there, he and Jerry saw her sitting at the kitchen table, holding her big stomach with both hands. Was she working there right now? Geez, her kid had never even had the chance to live, and now, he or she was going to die. Please, God. Please.

Gerard and Katrina had been having some fun in the boardroom of the government building, but the child was getting restless now. They had played I Spy and Charades, but Gerard was becoming agitated. Katrina was starting to lose interest, checking her cell phone for messages. The boy had asked her several times how long they were going to be here, and she'd told him she had no idea.

When Gerard asked the young girl for the umpteenth time when his Papa was going to be back, Katrina snapped. She'd thought that hanging around with a kid his age would be pretty easy, but Katrina had had no idea how immature Gerard was. She guessed him to be about twelve, maybe thirteen, but he was acting like he was a Kindergarten kid. He kept on pestering her, and pestering her...

"I said, I don't know!" Katrina exclaimed, raising her voice. "Geez, would you just relax? How old ARE you, anyway? Don't you have a cell phone, like every other kid your age?" She was texting her boyfriend now, telling him she'd gotten called in to work unexpectedly. She would call him as soon as she was free.

Gerard was starting to get very upset, now. He wanted to go home, and see Maman Michelle. He was bored, and he could tell that this girl really didn't want to be here. Well, he didn't want to be here, either.

Katrina dropped her phone on the boardroom table, clutching her face with both hands. It felt like someone had taken a lit blowtorch and burned off her skin. She screamed, and then she screamed some more as she saw the skin sliding off her arms.

Gerard jumped out of his chair and backed away, as the blood started to pour from the girl's mouth. It landed on the carpeting underneath her chair, making a pitterpat sound, like rain on the roof. The boy's back was against the wall now as he stared in horror at what he had done. "I take it back," he said softly. Then he shouted, "I take it back!"

But it was too late. The poor girl's blood vessels burst all at once, sending bits of her flying all over the room. Then the chairs around the table began to launch themselves at the walls, smashing into pieces. One flew against the large plate-glass windows at such a velocity that it cracked the window pane. Then, the boardroom table burst into flames.

Gerard's paralysis broke. Wide-eyed with terror, he fled the room.

The military men had timed the explosions with precision. Ten minutes after the Presidential mansion exploded with a series of deafening reports, the East end of the complex known locally as Dreamland Estates started to go up. The houses there were built fairly close to each other, so the flames spread quickly. Most of the men who had planted the explosives got away cleanly, but a few who had lingered a bit too long had paid the ultimate price for admiring their own handiwork.

Many of the armed guards at the mansion hadn't fared as well, because they'd had no idea what was coming. Using the dispassionate, logical reasoning of a sociopath, Benoit had taken the position that those men were replaceable, as were his domestic staff. The more people who had known what was going to happen at the mansion, the higher the risk. It was a shame about his new bride, but Michelle had sealed her own fate when she had branded Benoit a liar, refusing to hear him out. He couldn't risk her going to the press and undoing all of his carefully laid plans, especially considering who her friends were. He had no idea where the Winchester brothers and the Angels were at the moment, but, seeing as they had not yet made an appearance, Levesque had decided not to concern himself with them. The Winchesters were merely humans anyway, and Benoit had the entire French military at his disposal. Dr. Roarke had assured the President that he could take care of the Angels, and Benoit had no reason to doubt him.

As the emergency vehicles raced toward the Northeast end of town, a man and a woman stood well back on the lawn behind the mansion next to the playground equipment, watching the fire.

Bobby had waved his hand, untying the knots that had tethered the pony. It had been rearing back in panic, trying desperately to get free after the first explosion. He was holding it by the reins, but at least the animal had calmed down, somewhat. Too bad Cas wasn't here, but Bobby had more than a passing acquaintance with horses himself, and he had eventually been able to soothe the animal.

Actually, it was kind of a pity it wasn't a full-grown horse, Bobby thought with faint humour. The way Michelle was looking at him now, he could have boosted her onto the thing and ridden her away from the scene of her near-immolation, like Roy Rogers on Trigger, or something.

Boy, that had been a close shave, though. Bobby's head had been buzzing for a while, but he had ignored the static. It was a fact of life that when you were God, you had to turn down the volume, or the constant chatter would drive you to distraction. But the occasional message would still manage to break through, as Cas had found out when he'd held the Office and Eric had prayed for rescue that time, in Florida. And so Cody's desperate pleas had broken through, just in time for Bobby to be able to show up here at the mansion. As it was, God had had mere moments to wink himself inside, call out for Michelle, and grab her, when she had responded. It was unfortunate that Cody hadn't known the pregnant woman's name, or Bobby might've been able to get her, too. But the bottom line was, the instant Bobby had brought Michelle out here to the back fourty, the place had exploded, and it had been too late to save anyone else.

Bobby waved his hand and sent the pony to a dude ranch in his old neighbourhood, and then he turned to look at France's First Lady.

"I hope you weren't too startled by my sudden appearance, dear," he said to her, and then he gestured to the spot on her arm where he'd gripped her. "And I hope I didn't manhandle you too bad, but as you can see, there was no time to lose."

"Are you kidding?" Michelle said incredulously. "You saved my life! If I grow a bruise or two later, so what? And don't worry about me being startled. After this, I didn't think anything could possibly freak me out, any more. So, you must be an Angel too, like Cas and Gail. Did they send you?"

"Not exactly," Bobby said, bemused. "I was sent here by a young guy named Cody. He prayed so loud I heard him, and so I came here right away. You might say I'm the head Angel, Michelle. I'm God. But you can call me Bobby."

Michelle was open-mouthed. "OK; what I said about not being freaked out? I take it back." She took the hand that he offered her, and they shook hands. Then Michelle looked around. "My God," she breathed, and then her lips twitched for an instant as she looked at Bobby again. "Sorry."

"That's OK, dear, I'm used to it," he said absently, but he was looking around now, too. He knew there weren't any other survivors here. Bobby sighed. Dammit. "Where ARE Cas and Gail, anyway?" he asked Michelle.

"I don't know," she said, dazed. "I haven't seen any of them, since before the wedding."

Bobby had expected her to ask the inevitable question: If he was God, why didn't HE know where they were? That was a bit of a sensitive spot for him. It seemed like the longer Bobby was in the office, the less Sight he had. Crowley had been alluding to it, the last time they'd met. But Bobby had deflected the question by retorting sharply that the King had been coming up empty when it came to finding Abbadon, hadn't he? That had shut his opposite number down, but Bobby was becoming increasingly concerned about it. How was he supposed to help protect his people if he couldn't see them?

But when he sent out the call to Cas on Angel Radio now, to Bobby's relief, his chief lieutenant responded right away.

"Where are you?" Bobby said immediately. "Is everybody OK?"

Cas assured him that they were all fine. They were at the Resistance headquarters. Did Bobby have any idea where the immigrants were being held prisoner?

Wait: what? Bobby was puzzled for a moment. Oh, so THAT'S what the young man had been talking about. Cody's prayers had been jumbled, like a partially-assembled jigsaw puzzle.

"I'll be right there, and if anybody's got weapons in hand, tell them to stand down," Bobby told Cas. "I'm bringing the First Lady of France with me."

Bobby reached his hand out to Michelle. "Take a deep breath, dear," he said to her. She did, taking one last look at the fiery ruins of the house she had briefly thought was her home.

Then, Bobby winked them both away.

Gerard was stumbling through the downtown city streets in a daze. Where should he go? What should he do? He was a murderer, now. He'd wished that girl gone, and then he had killed her. This was different from that girl at the house, years ago. That had been an accident. Then, his Papa had started to give Gerard that formula, the stuff that had muted his powers but dulled his senses. But Gerard had stopped taking it, and now, his powers were out of control. He'd tried to stop it, once he'd realized what was happening, but it wouldn't stop. He glanced nervously back at the smoke coming from the windows of the government building, wondering if the fire department was going to come soon. Gerard had no way of knowing that many of the downtown district's emergency vehicles were at this moment heading out to his own home.

Papa was never going to forgive Gerard for what he'd done. Never. And Maman Michelle was never going to love him, now. He was a monster. Gerard glanced at the faces of the people passing by him on the sidewalk. Very few of them even gave him a second look. If they knew what he really was, they would kill him. Maybe he should let them.

Gerard continued on for a few more blocks, and then he looked off into the distance. The Eiffel Tower. He had always wanted to go there. His heart clenched when he realized that he and his father and his new mother would never go there as a family, now. Never.

But he started walking towards the place, anyway. Maybe he would go up to the top and look at the city, just for a minute, before they took him away to jail. He wondered if all the people he was passing by on the streets now would look like little insects from way up there. They probably would. Should he allow them to live, or should Gerard put them out of their misery, before Papa's police force dragged him off to jail? Or should he simply destroy the tower? If Gerard couldn't go there with his family, why should anyone else get to?

He kept on walking. He would decide when he got there.


	5. Chapter 5 – Blaze Of Glory

Chapter 5 – Blaze Of Glory

Michelle told her friends and the assembled members of the Resistance about what had been happening with her and Benoit, and the fact that he had prevented her from talking to Dean when she'd found out about the paranormal abilities the kids had. Then, she had all too slowly come to the realization that her new husband was being dishonest with her, possibly about any number of things. The Angels and humans exchanged uncomfortable glances. Boy, was she ever in for a shock.

Cas's lips were pursed tightly when Michelle and Bobby told them about the bombings at the mansion, and at a place called Dreamland Estates. Eileen had signed to their confused friends, telling them through Sam the types of houses those were, and the sort of people who lived there. They were appalled by the fact that all of those people were now dead, and at the growing realization that Benoit's administration was likely responsible. Cas was berating himself. He should have thought of that, long before now. It was a diabolically clever strategy. Most members of the public would never believe that the President would be behind the destruction of his own home, his staff, and especially his new bride. Nor would they believe that, if Levesque was supposed to be a virulent racist, he would be behind the bombing of Dreamland Estates. It had been an evil, repugnant, yet brilliant plan. It was exactly the type of strategy that Castiel and Jason would have employed, in the old days.

But Cas had tried his utmost to become a better person. However, in doing so, he realized that at times that meant he had lost some of his edge. In order to catch vermin, you had to think like a gutter rat.

"Has this young man Cody given you any clues as to their location?" Cas barked at Bobby, who leveled him with a momentary glare. But the important thing now was saving those people. They could all kiss and make up, later on.

"I'll go outside, and open up," Bobby advised Cas. "I should be able to hone in on the location, if he's still praying."

Cas nodded curtly, and as Bobby exited the house, the Angel looked around at everyone. "Gather all of the weapons you can," he instructed. "As soon as we have the location, be prepared to mobilize. God can take us there, all at once."

Fazima and Sabra grabbed their guns. "This time, we're coming with you," Sabra said. "Rashida and her son are there, I'm sure of it."

"Certainly, you will come," Cas said without hesitation. "The more people and weapons we have, the better." Then he looked uncertainly at Michelle. "You may stay here, if you wish. I expect that your husband may be there."

Michelle felt sick to her stomach. She was an intelligent woman, and she had made the connection. They were saying that those pictures that had been leaked to the press, which Benoit had vehemently refuted as being genuine, were the absolute truth. Oh, God. She had married Hitler. How could she have been so blind?

"Give me a gun," she said to Dean. He did a double-take, then smiled grimly and handed her a weapon.

Bobby took them all to the facility, and seconds later, Angels began to appear in the field, holding blades. Ethan, Gabriel, Linda, Paul, Kevin, Henri, Milo, Nanette, and a dozen cadets, from the top Academy classes. Bobby'd had Gabe brief them on the situation. There shouldn't be any difficulty for this many people, both human and non-human, to get the task accomplished, Cas had said. But because there were still two of Vincent's children and Dr. Roarke unaccounted for, he was pairing every human with at least one Angel, for extra protection. Bobby had pointed out that Cody was the one who had prayed for deliverance in the first place, but Cas had looked at him with a flat, cold expression. Were they certain that the young man wasn't setting a trap? Michelle had been about to raise an objection, but her throat dried up on hearing that, and on seeing the look on Cas's face. On the one hand, she didn't believe that either Cody or Gerard would harm her, or had the evil intent to hurt anyone. On the other hand, they could be under duress, if Benoit was pulling the strings. Yes, they had better be very cautious.

Cas and Eileen led the way, and the other teams followed quietly behind. Once inside the facility, they split up. Cas had assigned the weaker humans, for lack of a better term, to himself, so his team consisted of the Egyptian women, Michelle, and a handful of the Resistance members he had noted were not as proficient with weapons as he himself was.

Eileen had Sam with her, just in case any sign language would be required, and Henri, and his parents. Gail led Neil, Celine, Will, and Kevin. Dean had Paul, Linda, and a handful of Resistance people. Bobby took a dozen Resistance folks for himself, and Gabe led the remainder of the humans, ten in number, except for Ted, who was paired with Ethan and the other Angel cadets.

Cas had advised the humans to defer to the Angels on their respective teams, as far as the use of force was concerned. The instant a gun was fired, everyone in the facility, no matter who they were or where they were, would be alerted as to the incursion. Knives would be preferable as weapons, then, as stealth was imperative.

The seven teams fanned out along the perimeter once inside the building, silently scanning their surroundings.

Paul was the first one to spot the cages. He grabbed Dean's arm and pointed, and Dean cursed under his breath. He waved to Linda and the Resistance people to follow, and they crept quietly towards the centre of the facility floor.

Meanwhile, Ethan's team were approaching the area where the parents and grandparents were chained up. A couple of the captives had already seen them, but Ted put a finger to his lips and went into his shirt pocket for his badge.

Gail and Gabe's teams were still moving around the perimeter, and both Angels were getting a very strong feeling now, a tingle that was alerting them to an otherworldly presence. They exchanged looks. It could only be Roarke, unless there was another Angel they didn't know about. Both team leaders told the humans who were following them, in soft voices, to stay close. Kevin felt the presence of Grace too, and he got his Angel blade out, moving up behind Gail.

Eileen was searching for Benoit. She would happily kill any one of his minions, but it was Levesque she really wanted. She wondered, though: would the big fish really be here? He'd been taking great pains to disassociate himself with the place and the operations here, even going so far as to destroy his own home, nearly killing his wife in the process. Why would the Nazi bastard be here?

Bobby was wondering the same thing, and he was worried about Vincent's kids, as well. God didn't believe that Cody would have prayed as fervently as he had for Bobby to save Michelle and the others if the young man was helping to lay a trap, but what Cas had said was echoing in Bobby's head, now. He guessed it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility. And how about the boy, Gerard? Gail had advised that the kid could be used as a tactical nuke, even if he didn't have the intent. God or not, Bobby needed to be careful if they ran into that kid.

Like Eileen, Cas wanted Benoit very badly, though he would gladly take Roarke, or anyone else who stood with Levesque. Unlike Eileen, though, Cas thought it entirely possible that Benoit was here. A man like that would probably be unable to resist watching the suffering of the individuals he detested so much. Castiel had seen that type of thing before, many times over.

Ethan and his team had reached the adult prisoners now, and they were quietly freeing them. Ted was surprised and somewhat amused to see that the Angels were simply touching the silver knives they were carrying to the handcuffs and shackles, and they would glow for a moment, then come apart. He made a mental note to ask about that, after this was all over. It had been a bit of a wake-up call to find out that there was a Law Enforcement division in Heaven, as well as an Academy that taught Angels to fight. Well, at least when Ted passed away, he would have something to contribute, when he got there. It was good to see that there were males and females, and Angels of different ethnicities, too. That made Ted hopeful that the ideals they were all here to uphold were being carried over into the Afterlife.

Rashida recognized Ted, of course, and she exhaled with relief when he moved up to help Ethan remove her shackles. "My son is in one of those cages," she told the men softly.

Fazima and Neil had been following their team leaders, but they stopped short, now. They could hear a small child whimpering, and the sound was coming from deeper into the facility. They left their respective teams and headed in that direction, with Sabra, Cecile and Will, right behind.

Gail winced as she heard the colourful Enochian curse loudly in her head, and Cas threw her an apologetic look. He hadn't wanted to swear out loud, but he couldn't help his reaction. He had expressly told them to stay with their Angel team leaders. Having no choice now, Cas and Gail led the others away from the perimeter and into the bowels of the factory, blades held high.

Gabriel's team continued on, towards the area where he and Gail had sensed that there was Angelic Grace. Now that Cas and Gail had peeled off, taking Kevin with them, he was the only Angel in the vicinity. If he could neutralize Roarke, that would be a big help, since they had so many humans running around here loose. Speaking of which...the Archangel glanced behind him and did a quick head count. Ten. Phew. He smirked inwardly, reminding himself to give Cas a hard time, later. Some shepherd his Brother was, losing half his flock like that. After this, they would all be able to use a good laugh.

Eileen and her team had reached a series of doors that looked like they led to an office area, and she and Sam were trying the knobs to see if any of them were unlocked. Henri was amused. He nudged Sam, and gestured to his parents and himself. But Sam shook his head. It was too risky, even for the Angels. If they just popped in there blind, who knew who or what could be waiting there, on the other side of those doors?

Dean's team arrived at the area where the cages were, just seconds ahead of Cas and Gail and their people, and their mouths dropped open in astonishment. There were dozens of kids locked up in the mesh cages, some of them quite small. Most were laying on the floors of their cages, sleeping off the effects of the sedatives they'd been given earlier. Others were crying quietly, but one little girl was whimpering loudly, and Linda's mouth tightened. She recognized that sound. When Kevin had been a toddler, that was the sound he had made right before embarking on a loud and prolonged sob session. She hurried forward, thinking to soothe the child. The trouble was, as soon as Linda rushed forward, Paul did too, and then the others followed. And as soon as the more alert children saw people who were not all white-skinned coming, they started to cry lustily, pleading for help.

Balls! Bobby thought. So much for the stealth approach. He raised his hand, preparing to wink himself and his team over to the sounds of the kids, but then he stopped his motion as he heard the screams of Angels, coming from a different location.

Gunshots rang out, and Drew and Josh, two of the young Resistance men who had been following Cas, crumpled to the factory floor, bleeding from their wounds. Cas began to turn back, but Kevin said, "I've got this. Do your thing, Cas." The young Angel dropped his blade, and went to his knees beside the victims. He moved his hands over them, digging the bullets out and then healing the open wounds.

Ted looked at Kevin, astonished once more. Wow. If only the force only had a few Angels at their disposal. But he hadn't seen anything, yet.

Cas was enraged. A half-dozen of the Nazi Youth rushed onto the factory floor, guns blazing. Cas threw his arms up and repelled four of them at once, knocking them into metal support beams. He grabbed another and twisted the young man's arm, making him drop the gun. The Angel slashed the man's throat viciously, then stabbed him in the chest. Ethan picked up the gun the young man had dropped, and shot the other one with it. Then the head of Heaven's Law Enforcement division passed the gun to Ted, who shoved it in the belt of his pants.

Gail and the humans who were in her charge showed up just as the second wave of skinheads arrived, and even though there were easily a baker's dozen or more, their group were fully capable of handling the onslaught.

The two military men were able to stay alive longer than their underlings, due to their combat training. Sergeants Lariviere and Rousseau ducked and rolled, avoiding the barrage of bullets from Dean's gun. Eileen and Sam flanked the men, having been winked over there by Milo, who'd asked Sam for a gun. Since the silence had been broken now anyway, Milo had advised he felt more comfortable using a gun rather than an Angel blade, because of his own military background.

Nearly everyone was in the centre of the factory floor now, fighting Benoit's minions. The enemy were starting to fall, but with that many bullets flying around, Ethan and Ted were beginning to worry about the safety of the captives they were freeing. So Ethan instructed his cadets to grab the adults and the kids, and start winking them outside.

Cas thought that was an excellent idea. "Would you take some of our humans with you?" He looked at the remaining Resistance members in his charge, as well as Drew and Josh, who were being helped to their feet by Kevin and a couple of the others.

"Good idea," Dean chimed in. He too had been worried about the hailstorm of bullets. All they would need was for one of the kids to get hit by friendly fire. So far, everybody was alive and well, or cured, in the case of Josh and Drew. But even though it looked like most of the shooters were dead now, the Winchesters and Eileen were still battling it out with the crewcut guys. They were on the move, ducking behind machines for cover and then popping up in different spots, firing away, like the bad guys in those video games that you could never, ever kill no matter how much ammo you wasted on them, Dean thought disgustedly.

Eileen grabbed her shoulder, and a bloom of blood appeared on her shirt.

"Cas!" Sam shouted, and their friend was instantly at Eileen's side. He made a motion, and she nodded, slipping the shirt off her shoulder. Cas deftly removed the bullet, being as gentle as he could, and then he healed the wound. The two of them smiled at each other for an instant, and then Eileen moved away, re-loading her gun. Cas shook his head slowly in admiration, still smiling. What a soldier she was.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, grabbing his side. Cas hurried over to heal his friend, and Gail straightened up from the cage where Cody was imprisoned. She had been talking to him, trying to find out if he actually was an ally, before releasing him from his cage. It was too bad the cages were made of mesh; otherwise, she could have just reached in there and taken a stroll in the young man's mind, first. But she'd pretty much decided that he was on their side when Dean had shouted like that.

"Paul, can you do me a favour and scan his mind, once he comes out?" Gail asked her fellow Angel. She touched her blade to the lock on the cage, melting it. Ethan had his way, and she had hers. She'd been going up and down the floor, helping the cadets to open the cages. Meanwhile, Paul had been helping too, picking the locks with a funny-shaped piece of metal he'd taken out of his pocket. Gail had lifted an eyebrow to him, and he'd grinned briefly.

Now, as Paul and Linda were helping Cody out of the cage and Gail heard Dean yell, she spun around to see the barrage of bullets coming the humans' way from the guns of Benoit's men.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Gail exclaimed. "I'll be right back!" She popped over to where she'd seen the shots coming from. She took a look around, spotting Sergeant Rousseau crouching behind a machine of some kind. He wasn't looking her way, so she popped over and stood behind him. She pulled his head back by pulling on his forehead, because there wasn't any hair to grab. Then she slit his throat with her blade. He pitched forward, dropping his gun on the factory floor, with a metal clanging sound. She snatched it up, putting it in her pocket. Then she stabbed him several more times, just to make sure. And then, remembering Cas's frisking of Dean earlier in the year, she bent down and checked the man's pockets. And it was a good thing she had, because she found three more guns, and more clips of ammunition. Holy moly. If this guy hadn't been trying to kill them all, maybe he and Dean could have bonded over how many concealed weapons they could both carry on their person, and still be able to move.

Gail popped around the area, looking for the other shooter. Instead, she found Cas, who had seen what she was doing. He was standing over Sergeant Lariviere. The man was laying supine on the floor, dead, and Cas was frisking him, just as Gail had frisked hers, a moment ago.

The couple made eye contact, and Cas said, "I probably don't tell you often enough how proud I am of what a capable warrior you've become."

"No, you don't, and what's up with that?" Gail quipped. Coming from Cas, that was high praise, and coming from General Castiel, the role he had adopted for now, it was like a declaration of love. She'd take it, right now. They still had unfinished business to attend to.

A moment later, they both got the call on Angel Radio: they'd better get back to the cages, immediately.

Dr. Roarke was there, and he was holding an Angel blade to the throat of one of the Angel cadets. Gail looked around angrily. Where the hell was Gabriel? They had both been on Roarke's scent until Gail had had to veer off and stay with her team members, but Gabe had motioned to her that he was continuing on. She'd assumed he would have found Roarke, by now.

The evil Angel was smiling thinly. "I drained some of my Grace and left it in vials, in several different locations. Your Archangel and his humans are currently looking for me at Sacre Coeur Hospital, downtown."

Cas cursed softly in Enochian, but he was looking around for Bobby, who had also apparently disappeared. Roarke's smile widened. "And the man you call God is currently at the South side of the city, responding to some Angels' distress calls. There is no such emergency, of course. But the two senior Angels will be absent long enough for me to kill all of the others."

"I think not," Cas said, his eyes flashing.

"Who's going to stop me, Castiel? You?" Dr. Roarke stabbed the cadet he was holding, letting the Angel's body drop. Then he winked over to another cadet and seized her, killing her, too. "Why aren't you stopping me, Castiel?" the doctor taunted him. He winked over to where Celine was standing, putting his blade to her neck. "Maybe I should just start killing humans, instead," Roarke said sarcastically. "Patricia used to tell me you favoured them over your own kind, anyway."

Neil took a step forward, but then he stopped himself. It was too risky to try anything, not with that blade right at his wife's throat. Couldn't the Angels do something?

But Roarke disappeared with Celine, and a moment later, Cas and Gail held their hands to their heads. "I'm standing by the ovens," the doctor said over Angel Radio. "I think I'll throw the female in one. Unless one or both of you would like to take her place, of course."

The couple exchanged a quick glance. "He's got her where the ovens are," Cas told Neil bluntly. There was no time for tact. "He says he will incinerate her, unless either Gail or I take her place. I will offer myself up, in exchange."

"Take me over there, Cas," Neil pled with the Angel.

A moment later, Cas and Gail were standing in front of Dr. Roarke. He was still holding a terrified Celine in front of him, his blade pressed tightly against her throat.

Neil was standing between his Angel friends. "She's my wife," he said to Roarke. "Let her go. Take me, instead."

Dr. Roarke looked at him, expressionless. "I don't care who she is to you. I want the Angels," he said. "Both of them."

Cas and Gail looked at each other once more, and then they dropped their Angel blades to the ground simultaneously. They moved forward slowly, holding their hands up in the air so that Roarke could see they weren't hiding any other weapons.

"Let her go," Cas said, nodding his head towards Celine. "It's me you really want to kill, anyway."

"Maybe not," Dr. Roarke responded calmly. "Maybe I'll keep you, as a test subject. You made such a good one, in Heaven."

Oooh, he was lucky that she didn't have her blade right now, Gail seethed. That had been one of the worst, most insidious things that had been done to Cas, and one of the most painful times in their existence. "Is it any wonder that Cas and I might prefer some humans over our so-called 'own kind', especially when our kind includes people like you, and Patricia? What is WRONG with you, Mengele?!" she exclaimed.

Neil laughed harshly. She had told him before about her nickname for Roarke, thinking that Neil might find it funny. He had, and he still did. Humour at its blackest, to be sure, but Neil reminded them of Frank for a reason.

Actually, Neil reminded them of Gail's brother for a couple of different, but very welcome, reasons. His ability to make wisecracks was good for morale, but Neil was also an extremely tough and clever fighter. When the Angels and the Winchesters had been practicing with the members of the Resistance group, Cas had asked Neil where he had come by his combat skills. Neil had grinned and said he had some friends who were with the Quebec Provincial Police, but he hadn't elaborated any further.

Cas had known that Neil was a shrewd individual, so the men had worked out a quick contingency before the Angels had popped Celine's husband here. As Cas and Gail neared Roarke, the doctor looked at Gail. "You, come here," he ordered her. She frowned, but did as he said, still moving slowly. She was very nervous, now. Was he going to kill Celine anyway, like he had done to the Angel cadets?

But, thankfully, Roarke didn't. He let go of Celine and grabbed Gail to take Celine's place, pulling her roughly to him. Gail submitted. Until Celine got further away from Roarke and Cas could give both her and Neil the push back to where the others were, they had to make sure that nothing went wrong.

Celine started to walk over to where Neil was standing, but her husband wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Cas. "Heads up," Neil said to the Angel. Neil took the sigil handcuffs out of his pocket and threw them in Cas's direction. Gail's husband caught them neatly, and strode over to Dr. Roarke. Gail kicked backwards at the same moment, hitting Roarke in the shin, hard, and then she grabbed the pressure point on his wrist. She could feel the blade cutting into her throat, but she squeezed harder, and then finally, he dropped it. Cas slapped a cuff on Roarke's wrist and, as the doctor struggled, Cas clamped the other cuff onto the handle of one of the oven doors. He moved toward Gail, but she pointed to Celine and Neil, and Cas nodded. He didn't see any Grace escaping from her throat wound, only blood, so the priority at the moment was the humans.

Cas went over to the couple and gave them the push. Then, once they were gone, he came back to Gail and touched her throat, healing the slash wound.

Then, Cas turned to Dr. Roarke. "I hope I didn't disappoint your expectations, by healing an Angel," he said sarcastically. "My wife is quite correct; when Angels are as abhorrent as you are, I vastly prefer humans. You just killed two Angels yourself! How many humans have you and Levesque murdered? And, why? Why would someone like you align yourself with someone like him?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, nor do I feel compelled to explain it to you," Roarke said arrogantly. He was extremely angry. How had he allowed this to happen? He should have killed Gail immediately. But he had not anticipated the strategy that Castiel had employed, using the human man. Which, of course, was exactly the reason that Castiel had employed it. Roarke was the kind of Angel that was dismissive of humans, and of females, also. He had done Patricia's bidding because she had been God at the time, and because dosing Cas had suited his own twisted objectives. But Cas had known that once he and Dr. Roarke faced off, the evil Angel would see Castiel as the only threat. So he'd given the sigil cuffs to Neil to hold, until the right moment. Neil had used the slang phrase that humans used when something was coming their way, such as a thrown baseball in sports, because Cas had felt sure that Roarke would be unfamiliar with the term.

The other part of the plan had involved a riskier proposition: allowing Roarke to trade Celine for Gail, as a hostage. Cas truly hadn't believed that Roarke would kill Gail; at least, not right away. No. The evil doctor was interested in seeing the suffering of others. Cas's suspicions had proven to be correct when Roarke had mentioned keeping Cas alive, as a test subject. Gail had reacted very well to Cas's impromptu play, with minimal damage to herself. And now, the humans were safe, and Roarke was immobilized. He may think himself above others, but the sigil handcuffs were enough to contain him, weren't they?

Gail walked back over to where they'd dropped their blades. She picked hers up, and brought Cas's to him. He gave her a tight smile.

"Go ahead and call your policeman," Roarke said contemptuously. "He can take me to Heaven's jail. Just know that I don't plan on staying there very long. We both know that it's entirely possible to escape from there, don't we, Castiel? After all, YOU did."

Cas's jaw was working now, and Gail knew that he was just about to lose it. Dr. Roarke was nuts. He kept on referring to that time, winding Cas up. Truthfully, he was winding Gail up, too. Did he think that they were going to give him a pass, just because they were the good guys?

"I suppose the right thing to do would be to turn you over to Ethan, for incarceration," Cas said coolly. "As Angels, it's our duty to show compassion, especially for our own Brothers and Sisters." He paused, glancing at Gail. Her eyes were bright, and she gave her husband a slight nod of her head. She knew exactly where he was going with this, and she completely agreed.

Thus validated, Cas continued: "So, I will show you exactly the same amount of compassion as you showed to those Academy cadets. The same amount you showed to me, when I was locked up in Heaven's prison over Christmas, separated from my wife and the rest of my family, slowly being drugged into insanity." He took Gail's free hand in his, and the two Angels approached the doctor.

Gail pulled on the lever handle of one of the oven doors, swinging it open. "Allow me," she said tartly, and then she moved to where Roarke was cuffed.

"The thing is, I have many, many Brothers and Sisters," Cas told Dr. Roarke in an almost conversational tone. "Did Patricia ever tell you that the very first brother I ever had in my existence was Cain? You may have heard the name he uses now: Crowley. The King of Hell. I don't usually talk about our familial connection, but in this instance, I think it's entirely apropos, as you'll be meeting him shortly. That is, if you're not too repugnant even for the likes of him."

Gail gestured with her blade, and this time, it was Cas who gave her a short nod. He'd said what he had wanted to say. What he'd needed to say.

So she touched her blade to the door handle Roarke was cuffed to and spoke the Enochian phrase, and the doctor looked at her incredulously. "What?" Gail said in a sarcastic tone. "You didn't think I was going to take that cuff off your wrist, did you? And let you leave your vessel, maybe, and jump into one of the dozens of yummy vessels running around here? I may look young and cute, but I wasn't born yesterday, Mengele."

The golden beam from her blade cut through the door handle and then Cas was there, seizing Roarke's other arm and latching the dangling cuff around his wrists, behind his back. Without another word, Cas propelled him toward the open oven door. He gave Dr. Roarke a mighty shove, and the Angel was cast into the flames. A fitting death, if ever there was one. Because Roarke was wearing manacles with sigil symbols carved into them, it would be impossible for him to escape his vessel now, and in just a few seconds, it would be a moot point.

The Angel screamed once, long and loud, and for just a moment, Cas allowed himself to experience a savage glee. Then he closed the oven door, and turned the handle back to the locked position.

The married couple stood there silently for a minute, and then, Cas opened his arms. Gail walked into them, and the Angels embraced. On a certain level, what they'd just done together was horrifying, but neither one of them felt regret about it. What had just befallen Dr. Roarke was the exact same thing that he and Benoit had been planning to do to those innocent people they'd imprisoned.

Cas broke the embrace, touching his wife's cheek gently. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked her.

"I'm OK, but I'll be better when we do the same thing to Levesque," Gail told him. She took his hand in hers. "I think I understand you and your history much better now, sweetie. We'll have to have a long talk, after all this is over."

Cas gave her hand a quick squeeze. She had no idea how much what she had just said meant to him. He felt closer to his wife now than he'd ever felt before. They were truly two halves of one whole now; partners in every sense of the word. He took a moment to smile at her, saying, "You may not have been born yesterday, but you definitely look young to me, and very, very cute."

Gail looked at him blankly for a moment, and then she realized that he was referring to what she'd said to Dr. Roarke, a minute ago. Actually, she was kind of proud of herself for having thought to release him the way she did. Cas had catlike reflexes, but all they would have needed was for Roarke to have expelled his essence in the few seconds that he would have had being free from the sigil cuff, and then they would have had a whole host of new problems. It was funny, in a way: people said that the longer a couple were together, the more alike they became. Maybe Castiel's shrewdness was rubbing off on her. And since he'd taken the time to make a lighthearted comment, making her smile, Gail thought that maybe her sense of humour might be rubbing off on him, a little.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Mark your calendar, 'cause as soon as this mission is over, we're going to have to go off somewhere alone together for a few days, so we can smooch like bunnies."

"It's a date," Cas said, his lips twitching. Then he squared his shoulders, and his expression became serious once more. He was becoming General Castiel again, and Gail nodded, because she understood. They still had work to do.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," Milo was saying to Cody when Cas and Gail winked back to the floor where the cages were. "You were just doing your job. At least, that was the excuse you Nazis used, back in my day." Henri's grandfather was working his jaw, just like Cas did when he was infuriated, Gail noticed. She could certainly understand why, based on Milo's and especially Nanette's horrifying experience, during World War II.

But Paul was shaking his head. "I told you, Grand-Pops, the kid's not one of them," he said to Henri's Angel grandfather.

Cody was standing in-between the two men, looking utterly confused. Gail tried not to smile, but she could understand why Vincent's son was so lost. Paul and Cody appeared to be in the same general age group, and Henri and Milo looked to be the same age as each other. Yet, Paul was calling Cody a "kid", and he was calling Milo -

Paul sighed. Normally, he could get a rise out of Milo if he called him "Grand-Pops", because Paul still called Henri "Pops". It bemused Milo to be called that, and he would usually offer a salty retort, one that would make them all laugh.

But, not now. Not now. Milo had asked Nanette to go outside, to help out with the freed captives, and she had given him a look, but she had gone. Milo's wife knew that he was just trying to protect her and shield her, and she knew why, of course. It was because he hadn't been there to protect her when those white supremacist bastards had killed her in Europe, during the War. Milo and Nanette had eventually been reunited in Heaven and were mostly happy in their existence now, and they loved their extended family. But Nanette knew that Milo had carried that guilt inside him for many years after the incident.

"I'm not a Nazi, I swear," Cody was protesting. He had his hands up partly in supplication, and partly because at least a dozen people were holding weapons on him, at the moment. "I told you, I'm the one who took those pictures. I was praying to God to save those people!"

"Actually, that's true," Cas said to the Angels gathered there. "Bobby confirmed that to us at the headquarters, before we all arrived here."

"I thought they were doing something completely different here," Cody said in a small voice. "I thought they were doing medical research. When Jean and I found out what was really going on, Benoit shot Jean, and Dr. Roarke locked me up here. Thank God you guys got here when you did. They said they were just waiting for instructions, and then they were gonna start shoving us into the ovens."

Eileen was feeling some very contradictory emotions right now. The men that Cody had referred to as the Nazi Youth were all laying dead, their bodies strewn all around the factory. Cas and Gail had dispatched Dr. Roarke, and the hostages were freed. Right now, the families were having joyous reunions outside on the lawn of the facility, with a handful of the Angels and most of the Resistance watching over them.

Eileen was jubilant that the immigrants had been rescued, and that everyone from her group was safe. She felt badly about the two fallen Angel cadets from a leader's standpoint, and also because they had all just appeared here at a moment's notice, ready to put themselves on the line for the humans. Part of her also felt sorry for this young man Cody, but part of her felt disgust, as well. Was he really expecting them to believe that he was that naïve? Paul had told them all what he had found out when the young Angel had searched Cody's mind, and Eileen had been astounded as Sam had translated the information to her. Young people making weapons, inciting hatred, and mobilizing troops to border checkpoints? Yet, this young man had supposedly deluded himself into thinking that they had been working on a cure for cancer, here? Who were the crazier ones, Benoit, or his followers?

"Where's your boss?" Henri said to Cody. "Now, him, I'd really like to meet. Finally."

"Well, you're in luck, because I'm right here," Benoit said calmly.

While they'd all been preoccupied, the President of France had emerged from the factory's offices. He had heard the shooting, and had waited a few moments afterwards, for the noise to die down. Then, upon coming out onto the factory floor and seeing all the casualties from his side, Benoit had known.

"It seems that you all have me at a disadvantage," Benoit said to the group in his smoothest tone. "I'm only personally acquainted with a few of you."

Benoit looked at Cas and Gail, then at Sam and Dean, and inclined his head, as if in greeting. Then, he noticed Eileen. "You're Cecile's sister, aren't you? Didn't I meet you at our office Christmas party?"

Eileen strode forward and slapped him across the face, hard. "You're not at a damn Christmas party now, you Nazi bastard! My sister is dead because of you, and so are way too many others!" she signed furiously, not really caring if he understood. That red mark she had just left on his face was the only point she had wanted to make, anyway.

Benoit was smirking, and then, his hands started to move. Eileen's jaw dropped in shock as she realized that Levesque was signing! "You will live to regret that," he told her. "Or, rather, you won't. I have the support of the entire French government behind me, my girl. What do YOU have? A bunch of filthy immigrants, and misfits from society. I have called in the troops. My Security detail will be arriving outside momentarily. They'll come in here and take care of all of you, and I will keep on going, because what I am doing here is the will of the people."

Eileen should be mobilizing her own people to get out of here, especially if the Nazi bastard's militia was due to swarm in here any moment. She couldn't afford to get them all arrested, or worse. But she was so incensed that she was unable to move, right now. So was everyone else who was gathered there. How the hell could he stand there and say he was doing the will of the people? Where did he get the nerve?

"No. No, you're not," Eileen signed emphatically. "WE'RE the people, right here. WE are. Blacks. Asians. Middle-Eastern women. Those of us who have been called 'disabled' by people who don't know any better. Us. These people who are all here with me right now, they're the people. They're my family."

Suddenly, they were all standing behind her: Bobby, Gabriel, the Angels, her friends from the Resistance, and all of the people who had been held captive here, including the children. Bobby and Gabe had returned from their wild goose chases, and God had intended to transport all of them out of here together. Michelle had told him that the danger inside had apparently passed, and it had appeared to be true. Now, there was only Benoit, and he was vastly outnumbered. Michelle had taken her gun out of her pocket, but for now, she settled for glaring at the man who was still technically her husband. The stories of the cruelty those poor immigrants and their kids had been subjected to here made Michelle want to throw up, to say the least.

Sam had touched Eileen on the shoulder, gesturing, and she glanced behind at everyone, then turned back to Benoit. "These people are my family," she repeated, "and so were my blood family, my Jewish ancestors, who were slaughtered in the Second World War by monsters like you. Well, most of them were, anyway, or I wouldn't be standing here right now."

Eileen glanced warmly at Cas. "Fortunately, there are Angels who exist, both in this world and beyond, who cancel out your hate, and prejudice," she signed, still staring Levesque down. "Goodness will always prevail, and so will love."

Benoit laughed harshly. "No, it won't," he scoffed. "Do you know why I was elected? It's because, deep down, most people share my viewpoint, not yours. It's an ugly world, my dear, filled with many, many ugly people. You can go ahead and kill me, if you want to. But I see the looks on all of your faces. You preach love, but you all hate me. Isn't that right, Cas? So, go ahead and kill me. But, just know that there are many, many others out there, ready and willing to take my place."

"He's right," Cody piped up unexpectedly. They all looked at him, startled. They'd almost forgotten he was there. "In fact, you know what?" Cody went on, in a strangely cheerful tone. "Let's just get Mister President's mighty army in here, right now. Maybe we can ask them what would happen to us if we did this."

Cody lunged at Ethan, grabbing the Angel blade from the young officer's belt. He stabbed Benoit with the knife three or four times, in quick succession. Levesque had made no move to defend himself. There were many others the President would have expected the assault to have come from instead, so his guard had been down when it had come to Cody. The young man had come at Benoit from the President's flank side, a rich irony that Gail would savour, later.

As Benoit fell to the factory floor, his mouth forming an "O" of surprise, Bobby rushed forward and slapped his hand on the man's forehead. The white light glowed, and Bobby shouted, "Hide your eyes, everybody! Quick!"

All the adults either closed their eyes, put their hands over their faces, or turned around. Most of the parents of the kids covered their children's faces, with a little assist from the Angels or the Resistance members who were standing nearby.

Eileen was extremely tempted to peek. But all she would need was to be blind as well as deaf, she thought with black humour. She reached out for Sam and he pulled her to him, shielding Eileen's face.

Michelle looked for as long as she could possibly stand. Milo and Nanette lasted a little longer, as did Henri. The Angels were able to watch long enough to see Benoit's body stiffen, then turn into stone, and begin to crumble. Cas and Gabriel were the last ones to avert their eyes as the white light blazed for one more glorious moment before fading away.

There was silence for a minute, and then Gabriel let out a long breath. "Wow, Bobby. Remind me never to piss you off. That was the best old-school smiting I've seen in a long time."

"Father Himself could not have done it any better," Castiel said reverently. But then, he gripped his Angel blade tightly, on high alert. "Bobby, if you will take all of the humans back to the Resistance headquarters, we will do battle with the President's Army."

"Screw that. We're staying here to fight with you guys," Dean insisted, but Cas held up his hand. "No, Dean," Cas said firmly. "There will be too many of them, and they will have guns. We can't fight them and heal all of your wounds, at the same time."

"You know, I'm getting pretty sick of you talking to us like we're - " Dean began angrily, but Eileen made a gesture, and Sam laughed shortly. "Yeah," he agreed with his girlfriend. "My brother can definitely be one, sometimes."

"It's OK; you don't have to worry," Cody said. He was still holding Ethan's Angel blade, and it was dripping red with Benoit's blood. Well, when he'd HAD blood, that was. Wow. Cody had never seen anything even remotely like that, not even in the compound. He was so glad that God and the Angels had gotten here in time. He looked at Rashida and her little boy, and Cody smiled at the kid, who smiled shyly back at him. Was he ever cute, Cody thought. They all were; all of the little ones. Cody may have become a giant piece of crap at the end of his life, but at least he had done the right thing, eventually. At least these kids would have a chance to grow up now, in loving homes. Maybe one of them would even be President, one day. And wouldn't that be neat?

But Cody wouldn't live to see it. He had some big-time atoning to do, and that was gonna start right now. "There's no Army coming, so you can relax," the young man told Cas. "Half of his security detail blew up in the explosions, and the other half is on the South side, trying to round up some more immigrants."

"Well, they WERE," Gabriel said with a smirk. "Once I figured out Roarke's red herring, we went over to where Bobby was, and we kicked some military ass."

Cody smiled briefly. "Good," he said. Then he looked at Michelle. "Look, you seem like a really nice lady," he told her. "I'm sorry you got caught up in this whole crapstorm. Do me a favour? If you can find out where Gerard – Jerry – is, and get him some help, please do it. He's just a little kid, and he's been screwed over all his life. Just like a lot of us. Right, Gail?" She was startled, but she nodded. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Do everybody a favour, though," Cody continued, looking at Michelle again. "If it looks like Jerry is gonna go nuclear, put him down. Put him down right away. He's got the kind of juice that could destroy the whole country. Maybe even the planet."

Then Cody looked at Bobby. "Thanks for coming, my Lord. Thanks for everything. I'm sorry for what I am, and what I did." He tightened his grip on Ethan's blade and drew it across his own throat, cutting deeply. Then he slit his wrists for good measure, and as Ethan rushed forward, Cody pitched face-first onto the factory floor. He was dead before he hit the ground.


	6. VIGNETTE – Emotionally Yours

VIGNETTE – EMOTIONALLY YOURS

They were all back at the headquarters of the Resistance now. Bobby had insisted that everyone come, even the Angels. He was going to send a dozen or so of them back to the South side, just to make sure that the area was clear before the folks who called that district home went back to their residences, and tried to go on with their lives as normally as they could.

The house was fairly large, but it was near to overflowing now, with all the new arrivals. Eileen didn't mind one bit. She sent Sam, Dean, Neil and Will to the shed in the back to get out the badminton nets and croquet set, and Kevin and some of the men and women from the Resistance took the kids outside to play.

Paul, Linda and Milo had accompanied Gabriel, Ethan and the remaining Angel cadets to the South side to do the security sweep, and after some debate, Bobby told Ted he had no problem with the Interpol officer going along to help, as long as he didn't open up his big yap about the Angels, and what Ted had seen here, today. Ted had laughed, saying that none of his co-workers would believe him, even if he did. Besides, now that he had seen the wrath of God first-hand, Ted joked that he wouldn't want to take the chance of pissing Bobby off. The men had shared a grin and a handshake, and then Gabriel had transported the group out of there.

Fazima was standing in the kitchen looking out the screen door into the back yard, where Sabra and Rashida were helping the men to organize the teams of kids for play. Hassam and a few of the smaller children were looking up at Sam, open-mouthed.

"From that angle, he must look like a giant redwood tree to them," Michelle joked lightly. She glanced at Fazima. "I feel like I owe you all a huge apology," the President's widow added, frowning.

"Cas informed us that you had no knowledge of that man's actual agenda," the Egyptian woman said to her.

"That's true, but I still feel so guilty about it," Michelle went on. "I was thinking... I run a number of rape crisis centres back home, in America. I think I'd like to set something like that up here, maybe make it a trauma recovery centre. Would you and Sabra and Rashida be interested in helping out at the centre? I'm sure there will be quite a few people who will need something like that, after this. Not only the people from your area, but the relatives of the ones who died at Dreamland Estates, and the Presidential mansion. Hell, I might need some therapy about this whole mess, myself."

Fazima looked at the woman, surprised for a moment. But then she realized she really shouldn't be. White skin and piles of money didn't insulate people from emotional damage, did it? She reached out and took Michelle's hand in hers. "We are more the same than we are different," Fazima said to the American woman. She nodded in the direction of the children playing outside. "It's my fervent hope that they will all grow up with the same belief."

Eileen and Sam were having fun, jostling with each other for positions on opposite badminton teams. "No fair!" a little girl exclaimed, looking up at Sam. "He's taller than the net!"

"That's OK, we've got this," Eileen signed to the little girl, as Sam translated what she was saying for the kids.

"Oh, cool!" a couple of them said, watching Eileen's hands. "Can you guys teach us how to do that?"

"This is what it's all about, right here," Dean said to Cas and Gail. The Angels had come outside to watch. It was such a joy to see people laughing and having fun, after the ordeal they had just been through.

"Kevin and Nanette have taken some of the others for a supply run," Gail said, nudging Dean. "We need basically everything, if we're going to feed this many people."

"I think we should just get Cas to whip up some loaves and fishes, and we can make tuna sandwiches for the kids," Dean wisecracked. "But, what about us grownups?"

"I asked a couple of Eileen's troops to go with them, and get some booze," Gail told her friend with a grin. "I thought Kevin might get carded."

"Way to go, Mrs. Buzzkill," Dean said, nodding his head in approval.

She rolled her eyes. "Uhhh, I hate to tell you this, but if I'm the one arranging for liquor delivery, I'm the complete opposite of a buzzkill," Gail pointed out.

Dean shrugged. "OK, I'll give you that one." He looked at Cas. "Hey, you want to play some badminton? I'll spot you a few points, if you promise not to pull any Angel crap."

But before Cas had the chance to form a suitable retort, Celine opened the screen door. "Cas, Bobby asked me to come and get you. There's a news bulletin you need to see."

Gerard hadn't even thought about the cost to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and when he finally got there, he had no money for a ticket, of course. But his heart was set on getting to the top. He had fantasized about it for years, and he knew he was running out of time.

But he didn't want to hurt anyone else, either; not if he could help it. With a child's petulance, he had briefly considered using his powers to annihilate as many people as possible. Why should they be allowed to go on with their lives, when his was now over?

In the end, though, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. Deep down, he was so very, very tired of it all. Being a monster, that everybody was scared of. Nobody wanted to be around him, not even his own Papa. Gerard had been angry, and then he had been heartbroken, but now, he understood. No one was to blame. Some people should never have been born; that was all. Jerry and his brothers and sisters should have all just been blown up back at that compound, with the rest of them.

Gerard touched the scanner on the turnstile, and the gate opened. Hmm. He'd never done anything like THAT, before. Too busy killing people, he supposed, he thought sadly. He took the elevator up to the top.

A handful of people were gathered around the TV at the Resistance headquarters, watching the reports that were coming in. Apparently, the authorities were still unaware of all the dead bodies at the facility, but because all of the dead who remained there were humans who had killed for the President, none of those present at the headquarters were too concerned about that fact. Bobby had transported the vessels of the fallen cadets to Heaven, for services to be held later.

The bombings of both the President's mansion and Dreamland Estates were being reported on, complete with film. It was too soon to have a death toll, it was reported, but the film of the devastation told the story. The President, his new bride, and his little son were all unaccounted for at the moment, the onsite reporter said grimly. But no one who had been in or around the residence when the explosions had occurred could possibly have survived, the reporter stated.

There was much speculation that the President and his son Gerard hadn't been home at the time of the explosion. The timeline suggested that they wouldn't have been able to make it there from Levesque's speech in time. But, had the First Lady been with them? No one knew.

Michelle was watching the coverage, and she was dismayed to realize that Jerry was missing. She knew that he'd been with Benoit when she and her late husband had spoken on the phone after his speech, and little Gerard had definitely not been with his Papa at the factory. Where was the boy now? There were also reports coming in that there had been a fire at Benoit's government offices, and a brief film clip of that had appeared on the broadcast. Could that have anything to do with Gerard's whereabouts?

Then, the latest bulletin: the boy had been spotted at the top of the Eiffel Tower. The coverage shifted to a live shot of the observation deck of the tower. "This is what the building's security cameras captured, just a few moments ago," the reporter said in a grim tone.

The people watching the TV gasped as the camera showed Gerard walking out to the large plate glass windows at the edge of the observation area. He raised his arms, and the people standing around him vanished. Then he pointed at the pane of glass in front of where he stood, and it disappeared, as well.

Gerard paused a moment, and then he stepped onto the metal railing outside the tower. The wind buffeted his thin frame, startling the boy. He gripped the metal frame with both hands and looked down. This was the sight he had always wanted to see. But he couldn't enjoy it. Instead of being here with a mother and a father, Gerard was here alone. His visions of a happy family life had only been an illusion. He looked out at the city he had come to think of as his home, and saw black smoke rising from a few areas. Gerard had expected the city to look beautiful from here, but instead, it looked dirty and ugly. His final disappointment.

The boy took a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to just let go. If he did, the pain he felt would finally come to an end. And he had so much pain. Gerard – no, Jerry – realized now that his Papa had never really loved him at all. He had only been using him, just like his real father Vincent had tried to do, back at that stupid compound. Jerry had thought that Benoit was rescuing him from there, but his "Papa" had only been taking him from one bad place to another. Jerry was a freak; an abomination. He never should have been born.

He took one hand off the metal beam, preparing to jump.

"Cas! Gail! You have to take me there!" Michelle shouted, panicked. "We have to save him!"

Cas looked at their friend with a flat, expressionless stare. Did they? He wasn't necessarily convinced. What had the boy done with all of those people they'd seen suddenly vanish? Why was he standing there, looking so anguished? What had he done? And, more importantly, what would he be capable of doing, in the future?

Gerard - no, Jerry; Gerard had been Benoit's name for him – let go of the steel beam and leaned forward, letting the wind take him. He spread his arms out as he fell towards the ground. It was terrifying and exhilarating, at the same time. This must be what it felt like to be truly free.

Michelle screamed when she saw little Jerry let himself fall from the tower, and a dizzying instant later, she found herself standing at the foot of the tower, looking up. Cas and Gail were on either side of her, and Cas was looking up, his brow furrowed in concentration. He still wasn't convinced that he should save the child. It was an unfortunate fact of Castiel's existence that he'd never regretted having killed any individuals who had deserved to die; rather, he regretted having allowed some others to live.

"Please! He's just a child!" Michelle was pleading, and she was looking frantically from Cas to Gail, and back again.

Still, Cas held back, and Gail was looking at her husband, but she was conflicted, too. Yes, Jerry was just a child. But that was part of the problem. Cody's last words were ringing in Gail's head, now. All of Vincent's children from that compound, herself included, had been badly screwed over, hadn't they? Of course they had. But wasn't the important thing, maybe the only thing worth considering, what sort of people they decided to become, in spite of it? For every one like JD, Damien and Jillian, there was also an Eric, a Rob...and a Gail.

"Sweetie..." Gail started to say, but now, Cas was sighing, and unbuttoning his shirt. This went against his better judgement, but after the devastating scene they had just witnessed at the factory, and the subsequent jubilation of the reunited families, the General Castiel persona receded now. As Cas's human compassion came to the forefront, he let in all of the feelings he had been holding back in order to do his job properly. Cas didn't have the heart or the stomach to allow a young child to plummet to his death, not after everything they had seen today.

Cas's shirt was on the ground, and his wings emerged. Michelle took a step back, hitching in a breath. Gail's lips twitched. She could understand. Her husband's wings were a magnificent sight, one that Gail saw all too infrequently herself, these days. After this was all over, they would have to see what they could arrange.

Cas flew up to where Jerry was rapidly descending, and the Angel formed his wings into a cradle, to cushion the boy's fall. He hovered there a moment, then took the child in his arms and drifted to the ground.

Michelle was weeping. "Thank you, Cas," she said, holding her arms open to Jerry. The Angel transferred the boy to her, and then he put his wings away. Gail was holding his shirt out to him. "If this was a different context, you wouldn't be getting this back nearly so quickly," she quipped, and Cas smiled, accepting the shirt and putting it on.

Jerry was clinging to Michelle, and he was crying. "I'm so sorry, Maman Michelle. I've been bad. I don't belong anywhere, or with anyone," the child said to her.

"I don't agree," Michelle said, kissing the boy softly on the cheek. "You belong with me, Jerry."

"Why?" the boy said in a trembling voice that broke Gail's heart a little. It was one simple word, but it conveyed a tone of both despair and hope, in a single syllable.

"Because I love you, Jerry, and I want to take care of you," Michelle assured him. "If you'll let me, I want to give you a real home. I don't think you've ever had one of those, before."

"Where's Papa Levesque?" Gerard asked her suddenly. "Is he dead?"

"Yes, he is," Cas told the boy softly.

"Did you kill him?" Jerry said tonelessly.

"No. God did," Cas replied bluntly.

Jerry was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "Good."

"So, what do you say, Jerry?" Michelle said, giving him a squeeze. "I really want to take care of you. You deserve some happiness in life, and Lord knows, so do I. We could be happy together, Jerry. I'll give you a chance, if you give me one. How's that?"

Jerry looked wary; confused. "But, if Papa is dead..." he reasoned aloud, "how can I be your son?" Then, his expression brightened. "Oh. So, do you mean I can be emotionally yours?"

Michelle laughed, sniffling back her tears. "You know what? I couldn't have put that better, myself," she told him.

Cas and Gail moved closer towards the two of them now. "What happened to those people who were up there?" Cas asked the boy in a gentle tone. "Where did you send them?"

"Down here," Jerry replied, and the Angels looked around. Suddenly, they realized that every single person in their vicinity was motionless. Actually, that was a relief; they'd been wondering how Cas's emergency flight was going to be explained.

"I didn't hurt anybody," Jerry told the adults. "I don't ever want to hurt anybody else, ever again."

"I'm glad to hear that," Gail said to him, adopting the gentle voice the others were using. "We're Angels, and we have powers, too, but we would never use them to hurt good people, only to protect them. But you have to promise us that you won't use your powers, Jerry. Any time you need to talk to us, just pray, and we'll be there. Or, Maman Michelle can call us, and we'll come to see you, and we can talk about it. But, part of growing up is learning to control your power, and your emotions. Do you understand, Jerry?"

"Yeah," the boy said in a small voice.

"We'll take you back to the headquarters, now," Cas advised the woman and child. He looked around at all of the people in the streets, standing perfectly still. "Can you reanimate these people, Jerry?"

"Sure," the boy replied.

Yes. Sure. Of course he could. Cas's stomach churned. But the decision had been made, at least for now. He took Gail's hand, and put his other hand on Michelle's shoulder. Then, just as their little group disappeared, Jerry waved his hand, and the citizens of Paris started to move resuming their daily routines. No one wondered how or why they had just suddenly appeared on the streets when they had just been on the observation deck at the Eiffel Tower. No one even looked up at the Tower. The structure was part of the everyday landscape of Parisian life. There would have been nothing to see, anyway. The plate glass was back in place, the security camera's video had been erased, and there was no mention of the incident on any news source. With one casual wave of his small hand, the young boy had nullified the entire event. The Angels thought they knew how powerful Jerry was and what he was capable of, but in reality, they had no idea. Absolutely none.


	7. VIGNETTE - Only Love Can Conquer

VIGNETTE – ONLY LOVE CAN CONQUER

"Dean is helping unpack the groceries," Gail told Cas, back at the Resistance headquarters. "I don't know if it's because he's trying to ingratiate himself with Eileen, or because he wants the beer to start chilling as soon as possible."

"I suspect it's a little of both, leaning more towards the latter," Cas said lightly. He put his arm around his wife, pulling her close. "We've been in so many stressful situations, lately. Are you all right, my darling?"

Gail looked up at him. "I am now," she assured him, but she could see that he was still staring at Jerry. The child was running around in the back yard of the headquarters, playing with the rest of the kids, looking like any other normal boy. Michelle had brought him out there once they'd gotten back to the house, and the parents and children had made him feel instantly welcome. Then Michelle had gone back into the house, to talk to the adults.

Ever since Bobby had come back from the factory, something had been bothering him. He asked Michelle a few questions, and then, God took Sam aside.

"Michelle told Bobby she'll get in touch with him, or with us, if Jerry causes her any trouble," Gail told Cas now. "She thinks it was just the trauma at the compound and the way Benoit had him living that made him act out." She had read her husband's expression correctly.

"I hope that's true," Cas sighed. "I sincerely do."

As the Angels stood quietly watching the kids at play, Sam approached Eileen in the kitchen. "Bobby and I are going on a quick errand," he signed to her. "We'll be back soon." Sam glanced at Dean, wondering if he should say anything to his brother. But Dean was looking way too happy right now. Neil and Will were passing him beer bottles to put in the fridge, and Kevin and Celine were unpacking grocery bags, taking out various meats and cheeses and breads, to make sandwiches for everyone.

"Hey, Neil, toss me one of those salamis, would'ja?" Dean called to their Canadian friend. "I'm starving."

"Are you sure you want to phrase it that way?" Neil wisecracked, and the others laughed.

Sam grinned. Yeah, Neil was a French-Canadian Frank, all right. The younger Winchester gave Eileen a playful salute and left the kitchen. Let Dean relax, he thought. He and Bobby had this.

But a few minutes later, Paul suddenly appeared in the house, looking for Bobby. Eileen had written a note and shown it to Dean, letting him know that his brother and Bobby had left on a quick errand. Dean had been curious, but not concerned.

"Man!" Paul fretted, and Cas said, "What's wrong?"

"We were doing the sweep of the South side, like Bobby asked, and then something weird happened," Paul told him. "Gabriel put his hand on his forehead like he was getting a message, but none of us could hear it. So, we figured it was one of those private frequency things that you guys have. He was muttering out loud, saying, 'I'll be right there, I'm in the middle of something'. We were kind of laughing, but then, it occurred to us: if it was one of you guys calling him, you would already know that. Anyway, he kept on muttering for another minute, and then, he just up and disappeared! Linda and I thought one of us should check and see if one of you know what the hell's going on with him."

"I have no idea," Cas responded, frowning. "I doubt that Bobby called him. I certainly didn't."

As they were standing there puzzling about that, all the Angels who were gathered around received a message from Linda over Angel Radio: "Everybody, get your butts over here, right now!" she shouted in their heads. "There's another wave of those military bastards, setting fire to the business district!"

Paul swore viciously. He gave Cas the coordinates for the area she was referring to, and then he winked out, immediately. If Paul knew his wife and Henri's grandfather, and he did, they would be charging those military dudes with their Angel blades, and Grand-Pops would probably be yelling, "Vive Le France!", or some expletives from World War II, whatever those might be. The guns wouldn't do them any harm, but those military Nazi guys could also have flame-throwers, and grenades.

Cas realized the same thing. He sent a message to Bobby, but he didn't wait for a response. Now, it was Cas who cursed. The next time he saw Gabriel, he was going to punch his Brother right in the face. How many military personnel were there, and what sort of weapons did they have? He and Gail would go, of course, and Kevin already had his blade out. But Cas wasn't about to bring Henri and Nanette, neither of whom had any combat experience.

"I see that look on your face, and you can forget it," Dean said to his Angel friend. He already had a sniper rifle in his hand, and he was shoving another gun into the waistband of his pants. Eileen, Neil, Celine, Kevin and a dozen Resistance members had weapons at the ready, and Dean made an impatient gesture. "Let's go, Cas. We're wasting time."

"We'll hold down the fort, here," Henri assured them. "Go."

Cas and Gail waved their hands, teleporting the group to the South side.

The battle had been hard-fought, but the extended God Squad had come out of it with minimal property damage, and relatively minor injuries. By the time Bobby and Sam showed up, there was very little fighting to be done.

"I'm gonna kill Gabriel," Bobby fumed, and Cas smiled grimly. "Don't worry; it's on my To Do list," he quipped.

They could be lighthearted about it now, but as the men transported the troops back to the Resistance headquarters, they realized that it could have been much, much worse. Why had Gabriel just up and left his charges like that? As far as Castiel was concerned, there was no valid excuse for him to have done it. The very reason that Bobby had deployed the only Archangel he had at his disposal was that Gabriel had the power to vanquish a number of enemies all at once, just by waving his hands. By leaving the site as he had, with no explanation or communication, Gabriel had left his team vulnerable. How DARE he? Cas fumed.

But, for the moment, they had some injuries to take care of, and some debriefing to do, following the mission. Gail had assured Cas that she and the other Angels could take care of the minor wounds that some of the humans had received, if he and Bobby wanted to speak in private.

"So, I guess you're as clueless about what's been going on with Gabriel as I am," Bobby said to Cas.

"I wasn't aware that anything WAS going on with him," Cas responded. "Then again, I haven't seen him for quite a while. We've been here, and even before that, he went missing when we wanted him to accompany us to confront the Beast, as I recall."

Bobby was frowning angrily now. "All I know is, he's gonna have to decide what his priorities are, and he's gonna have to decide right now. He's useless to me if I can't count on him."

Cas nodded curtly. He completely agreed.

"On a brighter note, you should be very proud of yourself, Cas," Bobby said sincerely. "Gail and the boys, too. I know you're probably second-guessing yourself about a few things, but I don't think you coulda done any better."

Cas was touched. "Thank you, Bobby. That means a lot to me." And Bobby's comments were especially insightful at the moment, because that was exactly what Cas had been doing. They had saved the captives and kept nearly all of the Resistance members and Angels alive, and Benoit and Dr. Roarke were dead. From that standpoint, the mission had been a success. But still, many lives had been lost in the explosions and the fires all around the city, and he still had no idea who had been responsible for the bombings at the reception hall, and all of the deaths which had occurred there. Had Levesque arranged those explosions himself, as he had earlier today in those other locations, to garner public sympathy? Or had another party been responsible? They might never know for sure. Eileen had lost her sister that evening, and she would likely never find out who had been responsible for her sibling's murder.

Bobby drifted away to check on the others, and Sam approached Cas. "I gave Michelle the bag," the younger Winchester told his friend. "She was pretty conflicted about it, at first. But I told her she should sell the stuff, and use the money to fund the trauma centre. She's going to take the documents to the press. Everything's in there; his so-called 'Final Solution' timeline. She's gonna make sure they publish every ugly detail. For the record, I think he was greatly exaggerating about how many people share his view of things, but it doesn't hurt to put it out there, let people know what he was really all about. When you flip the lights on in a room, the cockroaches scatter, right?"

Cas smiled bitterly. While Sam's analogy was not wrong, Cas could also point out that those same cockroaches merely scuttled into hiding, waiting for the lights to go out again so they could re-emerge. But instead, he said, "How did you know about the bag?"

"I didn't; not really," Sam admitted. "But, I started to think: would the guy really blow up his most valuable things, or would he protect them? I remembered his wall safe at that white supremacist headquarters, and Bobby and I got to talking. We thought that maybe he got Roarke to pop in there and take the stuff out of the safe, right before the house went up. So we went back to the factory, and checked the offices there. Sure enough, there was a wall safe in one of them. Bobby blew it open, and we found the bag, with all the valuables in it. There's also information on art storage facilities in the bag. I'm willing to bet that Levesque's got more than a few pieces of art from the Second World War stashed away that were stolen from those people in the camps. I talked to Michelle about that, and she said that she'll take Eileen to look at the stuff, and the two of them can consult with some of those art experts who reunite families with their ancestors' stolen pieces."

"That's wonderful, Sam," Cas said, nodding. He had been wondering where Bobby and Sam had up and disappeared to, but now, he could see that their excursion had been well worth it. The Angel was silent for a moment, and then he ventured, "And you, Sam?"

"Yeah? What about me, Cas?" Sam said, but he figured he knew what his friend was getting at.

"Will you be staying on a while, to help with the investigation?" Cas said, raising an eyebrow.

Sam grinned. "I think that's the most indirect question I've ever heard you ask," he remarked. "What you're really asking is: what's going on with me and Eileen? Right?"

"Well...yes," Cas admitted, his lips twitching. "But I wasn't sure if it was any of my business."

"I'm not sure it is, either," Sam teased his friend, "although I'm pretty sure your wife's going to have something to say about the subject." He paused. "But, seriously, we haven't really had that discussion yet, Cas. Once everybody clears out, she and I will have to talk, about a few things. I would imagine most of these people will want to go home, soon. It's been a long, stressful day, to say the least."

"Yes, it has, Sam," Cas agreed, and then he clapped his friend on the shoulder, just like Dean or Frank would do. "Eileen is an admirable woman. I hope the two of you are very happy. Maybe you can teach Gail and myself some sign language, so we can better communicate with her."

Sam was touched. "I'd like that, and I'm sure she would, too." Then, he grinned again. "We could include Dean in some of those lessons, although there are a few words and phrases I'd just as soon he didn't find out about."

Cas favoured his friend with a rare grin in return. "I think that's an excellent approach," he agreed. He looked over in the direction of the living room, where it appeared as though the healing process was nearly complete. Gail was kneeling by Dean, and it seemed that she was berating him about something. Then it occurred to Cas what must be going on: characteristically, Dean had insisted that everyone else's injuries be healed, prior to his own. They teased Dean a lot, about a myriad of things, but Dean was much braver and more altruistic than they gave him credit for, much of the time.

"I'd better go over there and see if I can serve as protection, before the fight starts," Cas quipped, nodding in Dean and Gail's direction.

"I wouldn't worry about Gail," Sam said, still smiling.

"I was talking about protecting Dean," Cas deadpanned, and then he took his leave, recognizing a good exit line when he'd uttered one.

They weren't fighting yet, but as Cas had suspected, Gail had been pestering Dean about healing his wounds. He had at least two, she had discerned. His shirt was well on its way to becoming blood-soaked. But Cas had also been right in his assumption that Dean had shooed Gail away, telling her to go help the others.

She had, but reluctantly, and now she was back. "OK, let's have a look," she said, kneeling down beside their friend.

Dean was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, and he had been sitting there stoically all this time. But the pain was getting to him now, and he unbuttoned his shirt. "Geez, it's about time," he joked. "It hurts like a son of a bitch."

Gail fixed him with a baleful glare. "Har, har. Get that shirt off, Egbert. I want to see what I'm dealing with, here."

"Really, Gail? With your husband right across the room?" he wisecracked.

She rolled her eyes. "You're pretty funny when you're wounded, aren't you? If you want, I can wound you a little more. You'd make a fortune in the comedy clubs. Now, come on. I don't have all day. Besides, we used to be married, remember? You don't have anything under there I haven't seen before."

As Gail helped a grimacing Dean off with his shirt, Cas approached the two of them. "Should that last statement of yours concern me?" Gail's husband said with a raised eyebrow. But he was smiling, of course.

Gail shook her head slowly. "Oh, please. Anybody who's ever been in the bunker for more than five consecutive minutes has seen Dean Winchester with his shirt off," she remarked dryly. She dug a bullet out of Dean's rear shoulder blade, and the elder Winchester hissed in pain. Then Gail waved her hand over the site, healing the wound. She moved her hands over his back, healing a few more superficial wounds. Then she moved to his rib area, and did the same.

"Well, unless you have something else I can't see, I think we're done, here," Gail announced. She smirked. "I have to warn you, though: if you have anything below the waist, Cas is taking over." Then, she paused. "OK; that didn't come out right. Wait till I tell Nicole about that one." She laughed merrily.

That surprised a laugh out of Dean. He took a deep, experimental breath, then said, "I'm good. Thanks, Griselda."

Gail picked his shirt up off the floor and ran her hand over it, cleaning the blood from it. Then she handed it to him and Dean ginned, putting it on.

"Don't get too used to that," Gail told him, getting to her feet.

Sam and Eileen came over to where the group were, and Eileen was pointing in Gail's direction. "Would it be sexist if I said I really wish I could do that?" she signed.

Sam translated, and Gail smiled. "Since you can kick ass, too, I'll allow it."

Sam started to sign what Gail had said, but Eileen put her hand on his arm. "It's OK; I can read lips, remember?" she signed to her boyfriend. "Save your strength, because you'll need it, later."

Dean's younger brother smiled down at Eileen, and Dean rolled his eyes. "Aww, geez," he remarked, looking at Cas and Gail. "They're making googly eyes at each other."

"Sorry, what did you say? I was making googly eyes at my husband," Gail quipped.

"Maybe it's just as well they don't know what I just said," Eileen signed, smirking up at Sam.

"We'll just be a little selective on what we teach them," Sam signed back. "All Dean will want to learn are the really good swear words, and the words for 'beer' and 'pie', anyway."

The two of them shared another smile, and then Eileen glanced at the Angels for a second. "I'll be back," she told Sam, and then she moved away from their little group.

Fazima, Sabra and Rashida drifted over to where they were standing. "We'll be leaving in a minute," Fazima said to the Angels and the Winchesters. "We just wanted to say thank you, for everything."

"I'm so glad we met Michelle, and Eileen, and everyone, here," Sabra added.

"I think Hassam and Jerry are quickly becoming best friends, despite their age difference," Rashida said, smiling. "I will make sure that Hassam attends an elementary school in our neighbourhood, so he can make more friends. That is, if you don't mind, Cas."

Cas's forehead wrinkled. "Mind? Why would I mind?" he asked her, puzzled.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure, in case you wanted a say in your son's education," Rashida said innocently.

There was total silence for a moment, as Sam's and Dean's jaws dropped open. Gail's eyes narrowed as she looked at the woman, and then her head turned slowly to look at her husband. Cas's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "I don't - but, we didn't - " He looked at Gail with wide eyes. "You must know that I would never - "

The Egyptian women burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Cas," Rashida said, her body shaking with laughter. "We thought it would be nice to have a good laugh, after everything we've been through."

As Cas took a couple of deep breaths to keep from hyperventilating, Dean and Sam were grinning widely. "Oh, Cas, man, you should see your face right now," Dean said gleefully, and he put his hand up, palm facing toward Rashida. "Up top," he said to her. She looked at him blankly for a second, and then she nodded in understanding, slapping his hand with hers.

Gail was trying to keep a straight face as she continued to look at Cas. She'd known the women were only joking, of course, but she was enjoying the humorous moment. Even if it had been at Cas's expense. He'd looked so stricken by the absurd suggestion, and he was still looking panicked, now.

She laughed and took her husband's hand, letting him off the hook. "It's OK, sweetie. I knew Rashida was only joking." She looked at Hassim's mother, nodding. "Although, I could almost see it. Your son's just as cute as my husband."

The Egyptian women shook hands with everyone in their little group. "I must say, we've been very impressed with Eileen, and with what she's built, here," Fazima told the others. "We will continue our training with weapons and self-defense, and we will remain vigilant, just in case there are others who plan on carrying through with Levesque's disgusting agenda. But Michelle is going to share the information she has with the press, and we are all here as well, to tell our stories. I believe that will be enough to deter any more aspiring Fascists, at least for the time being." Her expression relaxed. "Bobby said that we can feel free to call him, any time. What a good man he is. He's not at all who I would have expected, but nonetheless, I'm glad that he is God. And I know we can count on your support if we need it, Cas."

"Yes, of course you can," Cas assured her. He had recovered from Rashida's little joke, now. He'd known that it was impossible, of course, but Cas was relieved that Gail had known it, too. He hadn't wanted to arrive home with his wife, looking forward to some alone time together, only to be told that he had to pack his bags and move into the bunker, Cas thought with faint amusement.

The women said their goodbyes, and then Gail turned to Cas and said, "You know what? For a bunch of ex-wives, they're pretty OK. But, geez, it's a good thing you're not on the hook for all that alimony. Can you imagine? You'd have to get a job. Maybe two, or three."

Cas looked at her. "I know you're only having a bit of fun, but in all seriousness, I'm glad they've moved on and done so well after their experiences at the Royal Palace, all those years ago. I'm afraid that I was sometimes complicit in the subjugation of women back in Biblical times, because we didn't know any better. I'm so glad to have learned how to become enlightened, in that regard. You've been the best instructor and the best example of the ideal state of womanhood that I could ever imagine."

"Sweetie..." Gail said quietly. She was so touched by what he'd said that she couldn't even form a sentence at the moment. She wrapped her arms around her husband, and he held her tenderly.

"Awww, geez. Let's get away from here before they start the smooching," Dean griped to Sam. "Come on; I'll buy you a beer. I want to see if there's any of that salami left."

As the Winchesters left the room and headed to the kitchen, Cas and Gail continued to embrace. They were quiet for the moment, content just to soak up each other's love. Things had been so grim, so stress-filled, ever since they'd come to Paris. Some City of Romance, Gail thought wryly. She realized it wasn't the city's fault, of course. It was just that bad things seemed to happen whenever they came here. But bad things had also happened at many other geographical locations they'd been to, hadn't they? Maybe they should just stay home, for a while.

Cas sighed inwardly. As much as he was looking forward to putting the recent weeks' horrible experiences behind them, he knew that more trouble lay ahead in the not-too-distant future. There was the problem of the Unholy triumvirate to solve, and the inevitable confrontation with Gabriel that Castiel was going to have to have. Heaven's business did not cease just because its champions were weary. Still, maybe he and Gail could sneak in a rest for a day or so before they had to take up arms again, either physically, or metaphorically.

Sam came back into the living room, and Eileen was with him. "Could you and Gail come somewhere with me, for a minute?" Eileen asked the Angels through Sam. She cocked an eyebrow. "If I write down an address, would you be able to take me there, using your Angel method?"

Cas smiled. "Yes. Once we know the location, we can definitely teleport you there."

"OK, then." Eileen wrote an address down on a notepad, handing it to Cas. Then she stretched up to kiss Sam. "We'll be back in just a few minutes," Eileen signed to her boyfriend.

"Ready?" Cas asked Eileen, and when she nodded, he winked the three of them away.

The trio reappeared just outside the Simon Rosenbaum Seniors' Care Centre. Eileen had written down the name of the place as well as its location, so Cas had made sure to be very discreet. They certainly didn't want to startle any of the residents here.

Cas was looking curiously at Eileen. He had an inkling about why they might be here. At least, he thought he did, anyway. But he was in for a surprise. He waited for her to take the lead.

"There's someone here I'd like you to meet," Eileen jotted down on the notepad. She led the way, inside the building. When they passed the front desk, Eileen gave the nurse there a casual wave. The woman signed something in return, and Eileen nodded and smiled.

They paused outside one of the rooms, and Eileen wrote, "You're about to meet my great-grandmother, Shoshannah Goldstein. She's having a good day today, and she's very anxious to talk to you."

Cas and Gail exchanged a puzzled look. Why would the older lady want to talk to THEM? But they followed Eileen into the room.

"Hello, Herr Schafer," Shoshannah said upon seeing Cas, and his mouth dropped open.

Cas approached the bed where Eileen's great-grandmother was sitting up, propped against the pillows. He was scrutinizing her face. Mrs. Goldstein was an elderly woman of indeterminate age, but there was a shine in her eyes, and her smile was that of a much younger woman. Cas could picture her with dark brown hair, wearing a maternity dress. Once she had started to show, he had made sure she had a chair to sit on while she was working, and that she was assigned to light duty, only. Now, Cas realized the significance of this meeting. Shoshannah was one of the Jewish people he had saved from being taken to the camps and exterminated by the Nazis, when he had been sent there by God the Father. And, Mrs. Goldstein had been pregnant with Eileen and Cecile's grandmother, at the time.

Shoshannah reached out her hand to Cas, and he took it. "My name is Cas," he said to her. "Please call me Cas."

"Hello, Cas," the woman said warmly. "When Eileen told me that an Angel answering your description was helping her to defeat the current Fascist government, I was wondering if it was you. You were certainly a Godsend to me, and to my family. My Isaac passed away about a dozen years ago now, but we were able to live a long and happy life together, thanks to you." She looked at Eileen, then said, "Starting with Cecile and Eileen's grandmother, we raised generations of strong, capable women. I'm only sorry that our darling Cecile sacrificed her life to the cause. But, we all knew the risks. We've known about them all our lives."

Then Shoshannah looked at Gail, and the older woman faltered for a moment. "Frau Schafer?" she said hesitantly.

Gail felt as if somebody had smacked her, right in the face. Suddenly, her mind took her back to that time in the factory, when Cas had taken her back to Nazi Germany to show her why he had been punished so severely by God for having killed Hitler. This was unbelieveable! God had sent Cas to the factory instead, to save Eileen's great-grandparents, so that Eileen could be born! Gail's head spun with the revelation.

"I'd like to thank you and the rest of the Angels for what you did, here," Mrs. Goldstein said to Cas and Gail. "Now, I can join the rest of my family happily; both my dear husband Isaac, and the others, who died in those camps. And our Cecile will be there too, of course. I will tell them that true Angels really do exist. I have always said that love will triumph over hate, and we raised our children to believe the same. I can see now that we were right to do so."

"That's what God the Father always told me," Cas said softly. "Love will always triumph over hate. Although sometimes, it seems as though it takes an eternity to do it," he added dryly.

Eileen had been looking closely at all their faces during this exchange, and she was confused. She'd been able to read their lips for the most part, and she was touched by what her great-grandmother was saying about their family. But why had she called Cas and Gail Mr. and Mrs. Schafer, and talked about Cas saving her life?

"I'm tired, now," Shoshannah said to the others. "Thank you for coming to see me." She gestured to Eileen, who came forward, kissing her great-grandmother on the cheek.

"Get some sleep, bubbe," Eileen signed. "I'll be back to see you in the morning."

They left the hospital, and Eileen put pen to paper on the notepad she was still carrying. She made a mark, and then turned the pad around to show the Angels. Gail smiled. All Eileen had written was a big question mark. Understandable, really.

But the Angels glanced at each other now. If they were to explain Cas's role at the factory during the Second World War, that could lead to a lot of follow-up questions, some of which Cas wasn't necessarily comfortable answering.

He sighed. "Let's go back to your house," he said to Eileen, and the three of them vanished.


	8. VIGNETTE - When I Look At The World

VIGNETTE – WHEN I LOOK AT THE WORLD

A few hours and a number of drinks later, Cas and Gail, Sam and Eileen and Dean were the last ones remaining at the headquarters. Laughs and hugs had been exchanged with Michelle, and Neil and Celine, who had insisted that the quartet should come back soon, for a social visit next time. Michelle had reiterated her promise to let the Angels know if Jerry acted out in any way. The boy had been very quiet and subdued when his new mother had taken his hand. He was probably just plain tuckered out, Bobby had remarked. It had been a trying day emotionally for the kid as well, God had pointed out. Regardless of what Benoit had been, he was the only father figure that Jerry had ever had.

Bobby and the rest of the Angels had left fairly soon after Eileen had returned with Cas and Gail, Bobby telling Cas to take a couple of days off with his wife once they came home. If anything urgent came up, Bobby would deal with it, himself. He could tell that this mission had affected the couple. When they'd gotten back from wherever they'd been with Eileen, Cas and Gail had seemed... Oh, hell, Bobby didn't exactly know. But he could sense that they needed a little recovery time before diving head-first into the next big thing, which would be figuring out what to do about Vincent and his gang. If Gabriel was gonna keep on pulling his disappearing acts, Bobby would have to rely even more heavily on Cas than he already did, and on Gail, too. Cas had told Bobby how impressive Gail had been in taking care of business, back at that factory. That didn't surprise Bobby one bit. He'd actually known about that for a long time. Gail had been the leader of their little squad way back when they'd been fighting Lucifer's evil marauders, and she'd been a good one. She'd kicked Dean's metaphorical ass more than a few times, and she hadn't put up with any crap from Sam or Bobby, either. Even though they'd never really talked about it, Bobby was pretty sure that Gail knew he and Rowena had been seeing each other on the sly at the time, yet Cas's wife had never ratted Bobby out, nor openly condemned him for it. Way back when Bobby had first met Gail, with her doe eyes and small stature, he'd made the error of underestimating her. They all had. But over the years, Gail had proved herself to be the strongest one of any of them, in a lot of ways.

Once it had been just the five of them left at the house, Cas had told the Winchesters and Eileen a highly abridged version of his experiences during the Second World War at the factory, with Eileen's great-grandmother and the others. Gail sat quietly, letting him take the lead. The subject of Hitler never came up, nor did the fact that Gail had been there with Cas that last time, nor was there any mention of the Book of Life. God had wiped all of that from the brothers' memories, and it was best left that way. Eileen had very astutely inquired about her great-grandmother having called Gail "Frau Schafer", but Cas glibly explained that away by pointing out Shoshannah's advanced age. Gail was Cas's wife, wasn't she? So Mrs. Goldstein must have just misremembered seeing Gail, back then.

Then their Angel friend had changed the subject, and that had been that. Sam's brow was furrowed, but he let the matter drop. There were other things on the younger Winchester's mind.

When his brother and the Angels said goodnight and left to go back to the hotel, Sam and Eileen started to clean up the house, but soon, they were kissing. Finally, Eileen grinned, signing "cleanliness is overrated", and minutes later, they were in her bed.

After they'd made love and Sam's heart rate was slowing down again, he signed, "I love you."

"I don't know if we should be saying that to each other," she signed back, frowning.

Sam nodded. "Too soon, I guess?"

Eileen shook her head. "Not necessarily."

Cas and Gail had already made love twice, and he was kissing her tenderly on the forehead, now. "You know, this really is a beautiful and historic city," her husband said softly. "I'm sorry that you and I have had such negative experiences here together. Care to try looking at Paris from a different perspective?"

Dean was sitting on the bed in his hotel room, talking to Nicole via the Skype function on Sam's laptop. In one of those curious time zone things that almost made Dean feel like he had climbed into a Delorean, it was after Midnight on a Saturday here in Paris, but it was only Friday afternoon in Vancouver.

He had just finished giving his girlfriend the exciting highlights of their day, and then Dean asked, "So, what's new over there?"

And that was when Nicole started to cry.

Sam's brow was furrowed again, and Eileen sighed. She'd never had a conversation like this before, because she had never in a million years thought that someone like her, someone who was the way she was, would ever fall in love. Or, maybe more to the point, that anyone would fall in love with her.

"I love you too, Sam, but... I want to put this the right way," she signed hesitantly.

Sam's heart sank. Yeah. Right. Great. Just what every guy wants to hear: I love you,...but.

"Remember, after Cas told us about saving my great-grandmother and great-grandfather and all those other people at the factory?" Eileen signed to her boyfriend. Then she continued, not waiting for an answer. The question had been rhetorical, anyway. "And then, a little bit later, when Gail mentioned that her brother said the theme for an essay his daughter had to write for school was: 'When I look at the world, I see...'?"

Sam nodded. Of course. They'd had a laugh about that back in the States, speculating about some of the things those kids would probably say. But now that they'd seen and experienced what they had here in Paris, the theme didn't really seem so amusing any more.

"How would you answer that question?" Sam asked Eileen now. "When you look at the world, what do YOU see?"

Gail was being given the chance to answer that question herself now, and on an entirely literal basis, too. She and Cas had gone out onto the terrace of their hotel room, and Cas had said, "I would like you to see Paris from a different perspective, and I'd like to see it again myself, but with you, this time."

Gail looked at her husband. "'Again'?" she repeated curiously.

"I used to do this all alone, and even though I appreciated the beauty each and every time I looked at the world this way, it was always with an underlying sadness. Humans take the Earth for granted. If they could see the planet as I used to see it, maybe they would love it and take care of it a little more. But, my forays were always lonely ones. What good was seeing all that magnificence without having someone to share it with? And, conversely, I've always wanted to ask humans this question: What good is having all manner of riches and opulence at your feet here on Earth, if you have no love?"

Nicole was sniffling back the tears now. "I'm sorry," she said to Dean, wiping her face. "Here you are, telling me you guys just defeated a bunch of evil Nazis and freed people from being shoved into their ovens, and here I am, being a big, whiny baby about a TV show."

She had told him her news: "Supernatural" was ending, after its umpteenth season. Just after they had filmed the current season finale, the principal actors had come to the agreement that the long-running show would end, after the following season.

"I feel kind of ridiculous, but I've just been working with these people for so long," Nicole said sadly. "They're like my family, in a way."

"I get that," Dean said, nodding. "That's gonna be a big change in your life. Any idea what you're going to do next?"

Eileen was thinking very carefully about her answer to Sam's question, because she knew that he really wanted to know. The trouble was, she wasn't sure if she could articulate it properly. Finally, she sighed.

"I think that you and I look at the world in pretty much the same way," she told him. "We know that there are many different types of monsters out there, both human, and otherwise. We feel it's our job to protect people from those monsters. And, usually, we can. But there are some things you can't fix, and there's some evil you can never, ever kill."

Sam's gaze was steady, but his heart was in his stomach. He knew what she was getting at. But, really, that was why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place, wasn't it?

"You have to go back to the States with your brother and your friends, and do what you do there," Eileen signed. "And I have to stay here, and do what I do. We both owe it to the people we protect, and to the people we love. And we owe it to each other, and to ourselves, too. We can Skype, and maybe, if the Angels aren't too busy, we can get together once in a while. That is, when we're not too busy saving the stupid world from itself." She tried to smile. "I know what you're going to say, and I agree. Sometimes, I want to tell the world to take a flying - " She signed an obscene word, and Sam laughed.

"You're right," he signed back. "Who died and made us the Justice League, anyway?"

Eileen grinned, but then, her smile faded. "Your parents did," she answered him soberly. "My sister did, and so did my ancestors, in those camps."

They stared at each other for a minute, and then Sam began to nod. She was right, of course. About everything. Fighting monsters was their legacy. It was what they needed to do, to feel like they were living their lives the right way.

"But I do love you, Sam, and if you're OK with it, we don't have to split up," Eileen continued. "I'll leave it up to you, but as far as I'm concerned, you're my boyfriend. I'm not interested in looking for another guy. But if you get back to the States and decide the long-distance thing doesn't work for you, just let me know. I'll be sad, but I'll get over it. Just do me a favour, and don't fool around behind my back. You've seen how good I am, with a variety of weapons."

Eileen smiled, to show him she was only joking. Well, mostly.

Sam smiled back, but his smile was wistful. He kissed her softly. "I can't see myself being interested in anyone else," he told her. "I wish I could change your mind, but I understand. I would never want to take you away from your life's calling."

Eileen nodded. "Just like I would never want to take you away from yours," she responded.

"Yeah," Sam replied, but there was a touch of sarcasm in his voice now.

But of course, Eileen couldn't hear the inflection, and Sam thought that, in this moment, it was just as well. He took her in his arms. Yeah; it was just as well.

"On the bright side, at least we've got one more season to go," Nicole said to Dean. "And, since it's the last one, they told us they're going to have fun with it. They said they might even let some of us in the crew write an episode. If that happens, I'm warning you, right now: anything and everything is on the table. I might have to write a scene where the guys are playing football, and Dean splits his pants doing his end zone dance. Or, maybe I could write about the time Sam dragged Dean to that comic book convention, and Dean asked a person out on a date, and that person turned out to be a guy, dressed up like Wonder Woman."

"I thought you liked me more than that," Dean objected.

Nicole shrugged. "I do, but funny is funny." Then, her expression grew serious. "I've got to tell you, I'm so glad you're all OK. We've been watching the news reports here, and they were talking about explosions, and fires, and..."

"Are you saying that you were worried about me?" Dean teased his girlfriend. "Are you saying that you loooove me?"

Nicole laughed. "All right, I give up. Yes, and yes. Hurry up and get back here. Now that I'm off for the summer, I thought we could hang out for a few days. If Cas and Gail aren't too busy, maybe we could get them to take us somewhere. Unless you're sick of travelling, that is. I could come to the bunker, maybe."

Dean smiled. "That would be great. We're gonna need a few days off to rest up from this trip, anyway. I don't know about the lovebirds, though. It sounds like they might have some Angel crap to deal with. And if they figure out what they're going to do about Damien, they might need our help for that, too. How about if we talk again, when I get home?"

"Sounds good," Nicole agreed. A few minutes later, they said goodnight. Dean shut off Sam's computer, looked at his brother's empty bed for a moment, and then turned out the light.

Cas and Gail left their vessels behind in the hotel room, floating above the city of Paris as their true selves.

Even though they had no corporeal bodies at the moment, Gail could feel Cas's blue essence mingle with her golden one. Sometimes it felt like he was holding her hand, and sometimes it felt as if he was kissing her. His essence was cool, whereas hers was warm. Each gave to the other exactly what their partner needed.

No wonder it was called the City of Lights, Gail marvelled. From this perspective, Paris was beautiful. Then they rose higher, until they could see the entire country. There were many spots that weren't as bright, but as they ascended even higher, she could see the lights of the surrounding cities and countries down below. Then she looked up, and Gail could see the stars shimmering in the night sky. Wow. What a beautiful sight, she thought, and because she and Cas were on the same celestial wavelength now, he knew exactly what she was thinking, and what she was feeling.

You're right, my love, she heard, and she could hear his smile in her head. It IS beautiful. And now, please allow me to show you an even more wondrous sight. Let me escort you to the stars.

Gail could feel Cas's cool essence enveloping her, and suddenly, they were soaring upwards, high into the night sky. They passed a few clouds, and then a few more, and even though she didn't have a head right now, strictly speaking, it was spinning, nonetheless.

They left the Earth's orbit and floated among the stars, at a leisurely pace. Cas stayed with his wife, making sure that she felt safe, and secure. He had never taken her into space before, and even though his first flight here had been aeons ago, Cas remembered how daunting it had been.

But, the reward was immeasurable. Gail was astonished. "Cas!" she exclaimed. She could see the planet Earth beneath them: the oceans, the continents, the polar ice caps. And the lights, all the clusters of lights, coming from all the major international cities. There was a yellow corona of light peeking out from the other side of the globe, signifying daytime in another part of the world.

This was amazing. Gail had never felt like more of an Angel, and like less of one, all at the same time. Did that even make sense? She felt so full of emotions, yet she couldn't communicate any of them.

But Cas understood. "That is the same way I feel, each and every time," he told her, and Gail felt a frisson of excitement. She hadn't had a coherent thought; yet, he still understood exactly how she was feeling. Their human friends and family teased them all the time about being affectionate with each other, but this was the most intimate she'd ever been with Cas, and it made her feel even more emotional.

"You feel that you are larger than the human life down there on Earth, because from our perspective, both literally and figuratively, you are," Cas remarked. "But, conversely, you also feel very small, because you see around you infinite space and time. On the landscape of the cosmos, we are but a grain of sand. Tiny specks. Any time I would ever become carried away with my own perceived importance in the grand scheme of things, I would come here for a refresher course on how important I really was." A dry tone now crept into Cas's voice as Gail heard it in her head. "As you're aware, my lessons in humility didn't always take. But, it was looking at the Earth from this perspective that helped shape my love and compassion for the human race. If we are merely grains of sand, what are they? How must they feel?" Gail could feel his cool essence settle over her, like a soft and comforting blanket. "When I look at the Earth, I see my Father," Cas added. "And, when I look at the universe, I see you."

Gail's essence glowed bright gold, shimmering in the night sky. Her reaction to what Cas had just said to her would show up as a hiccup in the binary code that was being recorded at an observatory in Denver, Colorado. Her current vessel's home town was just the latest in a long line of places Gail's vessel had occupied. But there was no place as magical as where she was right now, and no one she could ever love more than the one she was with.

"Thank you for bringing me here, sweetie," she said to her husband. "I love you so much."

Cas smiled, feeling the warm embrace of his wife's essence envelop him. The Angels drifted in space for a while, enjoying the view in silent awe. Then, as the sun began to spread its own golden light across the globe, the couple began their descent. By the time Sam and Dean were waking up in their respective beds, Cas and Gail were back in theirs, anticipating the voyage home.


	9. BOOK 3 Chapter 1 - Friend, Or Foe

BOOK 3 – SEASON OF LOVE (ETE)

Chapter 1 – Friend, Or Foe?

Gabriel had managed to avoid Bobby and Cas thus far, but he knew that it wouldn't last. Fortunately, the present God didn't think like the God of old, or Gabriel would have been called on the carpet of the High Office the first time he had pulled his disappearing act.

The modifications that had been performed on Gabe's mind were pervasive, but they only went so far. This was of necessity, because he had to be available when his contact called on him, and in order for that to happen, Gabriel had to remember that he actually had a contact.

The Archangel's recollections remained very murky, though. He was allowed to remember who his fellow Archangel Phanuel was, so that when Phanuel called Gabriel on their frequency and said they needed to talk, Gabriel would fly to his Brother's side. Literally. But Gabe had no memory of having killed the Gospel writer Matthew. On the off chance that God, Castiel, or even Crowley were to search Gabriel's mind, there was no danger of discovery. Matthew had known too much, as had a few of the others who had had to be eliminated.

There was still work to be done, but it would become trickier for Gabriel to avoid questioning, now that he had disappeared from the mission he'd been on in Paris. That action had raised a red flag, calling attention to Gabriel's occasional disappearances.

Phanuel had been punished by the entity who was actually behind the operation, and the Archangel who had summoned Gabriel so hastily had accepted the flagellation as his due. Assassinating Gabriel had been briefly discussed, but because he had been such an efficient weapon, and because he had been accepted as a member of Castiel's extended family, he had been allowed to live.

Gabriel still had quite a bit of work to do.

Rob and Suzanne were relaxing in the living room of the house, waiting for Angela to come home from school. The bus dropped her off at the end of the street, and she and her little friend Jackie walked the rest of the way. The girls came to Angela's house sometimes, and they would go up to Angela's room to play. Other times, they would go to Jackie's house, across the street. But if they did, Angela was always required to call Rob or Suzanne the instant she got to Jackie's, to let them know where she was. Once, the little girl had forgotten. Suzanne had given Angela ten extra minutes' grace, but then, Rob's girlfriend had marched him across the street. The young couple had found the girls in the back yard of Jackie's house, playing house. Rob was amused to see they had the standard dollhouse and dolls, but they also had action figures, including the Supernatural ones Nicole had obtained for the kids. He had put his hand on his girlfriend's arm and gestured wordlessly as they saw Angela grab one of the glamorous female dolls and a male astronaut action figure.

"I love you, Rob," Angela had the doll say. "I love you, too, Suzanne," the astronaut replied. Then she had the two figures making kissing sounds, mashing their faces together.

"Ewww!" Jackie exclaimed. She had the Sam and Dean action figures in the kitchen of the dollhouse, and she was pretending to cook a meal for them. Rob was grinning. Uncle Dean would approve.

"Hey, don't knock it till you've tried it," Rob said to Jackie, taking Suzanne's hand. Then he pointed a finger at his sister. "Don't tell Dad I said that. He would kill me."

"You didn't call us to tell us you were here," Suzanne scolded Angela, sounding three times her actual age. "We need to know where you are. You know you're supposed to call us, the second you get here."

"OK, OK, Sue," Angela said to her brother's girlfriend. "I'm sorry, I just forgot. Jackie and I are writing a movie script. Auntie Nicole said she's going to be out of a job, this year. We thought if we could come up with an idea for a movie, she could work on it."

Suzanne thawed. The girls were so cute. "That's a very nice idea," she said to them. "Just make sure to let us know where you are, so we know you're safe, okay?"

"OK," Angela had replied. She had never forgotten to call, after that.

Rob had been a little more casual about the whole thing than Suzanne was. Their family knew everyone on the street, and everyone on the street knew their family. They had a really good setup, here. Suzanne had gradually moved her stuff in and now she was living there with them, with his Dad's full approval.

Suzanne and Rob were deeply, madly in love. It was the kind of love that someone who didn't know Rob might very well have dismissed as infatuation. But, for all his teasing of his own sister and Cas and their public displays of affection, Frank knew that his son's feelings for the girl were sincere, and Frank was happy for the young couple. And now that Frank had spent some quality time with them as a couple, he was just fine with it. They helped him with Angela's care, freeing Frank up to work longer hours at City Hall. Not that being a bureaucrat was exactly thrilling, but he had found himself able to push through a few more social assistance programs, due to that extra time for finagling.

"I'm home!" Angela yelled as she came through the front door of the house.

Suzanne rolled her eyes. Did she really have to shout? They were right here. But it certainly beat the alternative, didn't it?

"How was your last day of school?" Rob asked his sister when she came into the living room. "Did you learn anything important?"

Angela dropped her backpack on the floor and kneeled beside it, opening the zipper. "I got my report card," she said excitedly. "Dad said if I got all As, he would buy me a present."

"Did you?" Suzanne asked, curious.

"I don't know," Angela replied. "It's in an envelope." She took out one of her textbooks, plunked it on the floor, and took the sealed envelope out from between the pages.

"You know, there's a way to find out, without your Dad knowing we opened the envelope," Suzanne said to the girl with a sly smile. She'd felt kind of bad for yelling at Angela in the past, but she'd had her reasons. But she didn't want Angela to think she was a narc, or anything. Angela was practically Sue's sister now, too.

"Suze!" Rob said, nudging his girlfriend. "We shouldn't be teaching her stuff like that!"

Suzanne grinned. "Since when are YOU so proper? Who was it who was teaching her how to quick-draw a knife, the other day?"

"Shhhh," Rob said, putting his finger to his lips. "It's not as if I gave her a knife to hold, or anything. I was just showing her my mad skills."

"Hey! Standing right here!" Angela said, imitating her Aunt Gail. The young couple laughed.

"OK, if you promise not to tell, we'll show you," Rob told his sister, and the three of them moved to the kitchen of the house.

Phanuel knelt in front of the entity he served, with his head bowed low. He was the Archangel of Penance and Judgement, and now he had received both of those things from his Master.

"I am sending you to Earth," the man who gave Phanuel his instructions said. "I need you to keep an eye on Gabriel, and Crowley, too. If you see any suspicious activity on their part, contact me immediately."

Phanuel kept his head low. He wasn't exactly sure what would constitute "suspicious activity". His Brother Gabriel was an unwitting killer, who had been brainwashed to follow the orders of the entity Phanuel was kneeling before right now. And Crowley, the King of Hell? By definition, anything Crowley did could be considered suspicious, could it not? Especially where Angels were concerned. Or, would it instead be suspicious if Crowley did something non-Demonic?

In any event, Phanuel was not about to question his instructions. His back was still bleeding from the last admonishment he had received. "Yes, My Lord," he said quietly.

"You will need to be warded," the entity said calmly. He waved his hand, and a hot branding iron appeared in his fist, the ancient symbol burning brightly at its tip.

Phanuel was apprehensive, to say the least. He had suffered much corporal punishment over the millennia of his existence, but he had never been branded before. However, he knew that he had better not utter even a whimper of protest. His Master was not the type of individual who would tolerate any sign of disobedience.

The Archangel closed his vessel's eyes, and stoically bore the pain.

Frank called over to the bunker after supper.

"Hey, Winchester," Gail's brother said cheerfully. "How's it going? Killed any interesting monsters lately?"

"Do spiders in the bathroom count?" Dean said dryly.

"What's wrong? You and Sam getting soft from all that fancy French cuisine you ate over there?" Frank said, smirking.

Dean laughed shortly. "Right. Fancy. If you call things you can kill in your back yard with a rock 'cuisine'. And I wouldn't talk, if I were you. From what I've heard, the most danger you've been in lately is dying of boredom. Or from a lethal paper cut, maybe."

"Hey, have you ever had one of those?" Frank retorted. "They hurt like a son of a bitch! Besides, I've been training Suzanne self-defense techniques, so I'm staying in shape. You said it was OK for us to use the training room while you guys were away, so we did. I was actually calling you to see if you and Sam want to join us, next time. If you're home, that is."

Dean let out a breath. "We'll be home. Sammy told me he wants to take the summer off. I guess it's a good thing, in a way. Nicole and me were talking about spending a bit more time together before she has to go back to the set, later in the season."

"But you're bored, aren't you?" Frank asked his friend.

Dean sighed. "Yeah. I don't know when the last time was that we took more than a few days off. I was so desperate for something to do I even called Cas, to find out if he needed any help with Crowley."

"Uhhh...are you sure you don't need to see a mental health professional about that problem?" Gail's brother said incredulously. "Why the hell would you want to do THAT?"

"Exactly," Dean agreed, nodding emphatically, even though his friend couldn't actually see him at the moment. "But it didn't matter, anyway. He said Crowley's stonewalling them. The only thing Cas doesn't know is why. Maybe he's got a back-room deal going on with Vincent, or something."

"Well, if you need something to do, why don't you call Cas right now?" Frank said to his friend. "If he and Gail are free, have them come over to the bunker. Rob and Suzanne and I will be over in about half an hour, and we can have a training session. I think Suzanne could use a real challenge."

"OK, I'll get the simulated weapons out," Dean said affably. "It's a good thing you caught me before I had more to drink."

"I was talking about her facing Gail," Frank said with a grin. "I said a REAL challenge, remember?"

Dean gave his phone the one-finger salute, then hung up.

Sam came into the library area just in time to see Dean giving his cell phone the middle finger. "Uhh...time for an upgrade?" Sam asked his brother, raising his eyebrow.

"Frank," Dean said laconically, and Sam grinned.

"He wants us to call Cas and Gail and invite them over for a training session with him, Rob, and Suzanne," Dean told his brother. "I told him we'd check our busy schedule," he added sarcastically.

Sam sighed. "When I brought up the idea of taking the summer off, you said you were all for it," he pointed out. Dean didn't respond, so Sam added, "Sounds OK to me." Then, he smiled again. "I've gotta say, I couldn't even tell they used the room when we were away. They left it cleaner than we do." He paused. "Maybe I'd better go down there, and check the place. I want to make sure there aren't any sweaty towels on the floor."

Dean opened his mouth to zing his brother, but then he closed it again. Poor Sammy. First Damien, and now. Eileen. What was it with the Winchester men, anyway? Sam hadn't talked about it much since they'd returned from Paris, but he didn't have to. He'd asked Dean for the summer off, and you didn't have to be a genius to figure out why. Sam was in mourning.

Dean picked up his cell phone to call Cas.

An hour or so later, the seven of them were in the training room. The Winchesters and the Angels had been tentative at first, waiting to see how much Suzanne had learned. But after they'd observed both Rob and Frank work out with her, the quartet were impressed.

They began to mix and match training partners, rotating the seventh person in and out.

Gail had noticed a certain problem that Suzanne was having with Frank, likely because he was taller than Rob. "Do you mind if I show you a couple of tricks?" Gail piped up, making eye contact with the young woman.

"Not at all," Suzanne replied. "If somebody as short as you can take on a guy who's much bigger, I'd love to see it."

Sam's mouth formed an "O", but Gail merely smiled. "It's obvious you live in the same house as my brother," she remarked. "You're picking up all his bad habits. Actually, I'm surprised Angela isn't sassier."

"That's because she spends a lot of time across the street hanging around with her little girlfriend Jackie, and Jackie's saintly mother, Joanne," Frank retorted.

"Saintly?" Cas asked his brother-in-law, smiling slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

Frank shrugged. "She's a single mom who works full-time, volunteers for three charities, kicks my ass at Monopoly, and she brings over the best casseroles, and pies."

Dean perked up. "What?" he said. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this?"

"Because she's my neighbour, not yours," Frank replied, rolling his eyes. "That's all I would need: you, descending on my house and going through those pies like a human buzzsaw. Besides, the food's for the kids, not for you."

"The kids, eh? Are you sure that's the story you're going with?" Gail teased her brother, looking at his stomach.

"Maybe you should ask her out, sometime," Sam blurted out, and everyone's heads swivelled to look at him. "Sorry," the younger Winchester said, smiling weakly.

"That's OK," Frank said with a half-shrug. "It's not like you're the first one to say it. Everybody down at City Hall is always asking me stuff like that: 'Will I be bringing a date to the summer picnic? Why is my neighbour bringing me all that food? Maybe she's trying to hit on me, or something.' And, who knows? Maybe she is. I kind of doubt it, but even if she is, it doesn't matter. I don't care about that. Everybody in this room knows how much I loved Jody. Hell, I still do." He looked at Cas and Gail. "You two know what I'm talking about. I hate to go all romance-novel on you guys, but, it's true: once you have the best, why would you settle for anybody else? I don't get these people who keep on getting married, six, seven times... What are they looking for?"

Cas gave Frank a nod of acknowledgement. "I couldn't agree more," he said, to absolutely no one's surprise. "However, I hope you're not referring to couples who marry each other multiple times, because Gail and I were hoping to have another wedding, soon."

"Can we just get back to the stabbing and the attacking, already?" Dean said irritably.

"Are you that eager to have Suzanne kick your butt?" Rob said with a grin.

"Dean's tall, too," Suzanne pointed out to Gail, frowning. "They all are."

"Doesn't matter," Gail said confidently. "Here, let me show you." She looked up at Frank. "Go ahead; attack me."

Her brother was smirking. "You heard her, Cas," he said, looking not at his sister, but at her husband. "She asked for it."

"You'll be in my prayers, Frank," Cas quipped, and they all laughed.

"Ooooh, I'm shaking," Frank said to his sister sarcastically. "What are you gonna do? Punch me with those tiny little fists you've got?"

"Careful," his sister retorted. "They may be small, but they can turn into fists of fury, if you make me mad."

"Fists of fury?" Dean echoed. "Hey, that should be your Kung Fu name."

Gail paused for a moment. "OK, I don't really know what that is, but it sounds cool, so I'm in."

"'Everyone was Kung Fu Fighting'," Suzanne sang in a lilting tone.

Frank looked at Rob's girlfriend, startled. "How do you know that song? It's way before your time."

"We listen to the Ultra Oldies station, on satellite," Rob told his dad.

Sam winced. "Did you really have to put it that way?"

"He didn't," Suzanne said, shaking her head. "That's actually what it's called."

"A lot of those songs from the 70s are weird," Rob commented.

"Yeah, well...disco," Dean said with a look of disgust on his face.

"Hey; more stabbing, less talking," Gail said to her brother, imitating Dean. "Unless you want to risk unleashing the Fists of Fury."

"Yeah. Right. You're soooo lethal," Frank scoffed.

"Yes, I am," she said in an affable tone. "Just ask all those Demons I killed in Hell."

There was an awkward silence, and then Suzanne cleared her throat. "Uhhh...pardon?" Rob's girlfriend asked hesitantly.

Whoops. Gail had been so relaxed and casual, bantering with her family, that she had forgotten how relatively new to their circle Suzanne still was.

"I'm sorry if I said too much, but Frank told me you and Rob are together constantly," Gail said, a little defensively. "I thought Rob might have mentioned it."

"In order to talk, you have to stop smooching, first," Frank said dryly. "Not that YOU would know anything about that," he added.

"OK; that's it," Gail warned her brother. "Here come those 'Fists of Fury'."

As the core of his extended family were goofing around in the bunker's training room, Gabriel was meeting with Phanuel.

"Look, Bro," Gabriel said brashly. "I'm getting a little tired of this go-between stuff. Whenever I ask you a question, you can't answer it. How am I supposed to do my job if I don't have enough intel?"

His fellow Archangel stared at Gabe, confused. "'Bro'? 'Intel'? What are these words that you are using?"

"It's slang," Gabriel explained impatiently. "It's the way people talk here on Earth, these days."

"Well, what does it mean?" Phanuel sniffed disdainfully. Slang expressions, indeed. How undignified.

"It means, I want to talk to your boss," Gabriel replied. But Phanuel was still looking confused, and Gabe let out a frustrated breath. "The Angel for whom we are providing service," he ventured again, and Phanuel's expression brightened. Now, THAT, he understood. Why couldn't his brother have just said that, in the first place?

"He wishes to remain anonymous," Phanuel stated calmly.

"Not a chance," Gabriel shot back. "I'm not gonna fly blind any more. If this guy is legit, he'll talk to me."

Even though his Archangel Brother was once again using terminology he didn't understand, Phanuel recognized the look on Gabriel's face. He was being obstinate; recalcitrant. Now, Phanuel had a decision to make. What would make his Master angrier, the revelation of his Master's true identity, or Gabriel's refusal to continue?

It shouldn't be up to Phanuel to decide. He was an Archangel, but his only function was to serve the Angel who had rescued him from the Netherworld. That was just fine with Phanuel. As it was, he held the honour of having been the only one chosen from among many other, more worthy candidates.

"Wait here," he instructed Gabriel, and then Phanuel disappeared.

Gail had shown Suzanne some of her more effective techniques in dealing with men who were much bigger than herself, and Rob's girlfriend was proving to be a fast learner.

It was Frank's turn to be rotated out, and he was sitting on the sidelines, towelling off. In-between gulps of water, Gail's brother had been bragging about Angela's grades.

"I promised her a present, if she got straight As on her report card," he told everyone.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," Sam said with a grin. "She did."

"Well, she might as well have," Frank responded. "She got a B in Health, but I let that one slide."

"Health?" Dean echoed. "How old IS the kid, anyway?"

"It's not what you think," Frank said with a brief smirk. "No Sex Ed. Not yet, anyway. It probably won't be too much longer, though."

"That's disgusting!" Dean exclaimed, screwing up his face.

Gail laughed. "Sweetie, where's your cell phone?" she called over to Cas, who had been showing Rob and Suzanne the proper way to hold a blade in preparation for throwing it at someone, looking to stick them in the chest. Cas looked up. "It's in my jacket pocket," he replied, gesturing to the blazer that he had tossed on the weapons table prior to working out. "Why?"

"Because I need to take a picture of the look on Dean's face right now, and send it to Nicole," Gail answered him, still laughing. "Quick: somebody come up with a good caption!"

"'Ewww! Sex is gross!'" Frank offered up, and Gail's grin widened. "Won't Nicole just love to hear THAT," she wisecracked.

"'No Sex, Please, We're British'," Sam piped up. Dean looked at him, puzzled. "What? It's an old movie," Sam said to his brother. Dean rolled his eyes. "You're weird, Sammy."

"Oh, I'M weird?" Sam retorted. "You're the one who's got that lemon-sucking look on your face."

"That's because they shouldn't be teaching that kind of stuff to little kids," Dean said in a prim tone of voice.

"Wouldn't you rather have them learn about reproduction and birth control and things like that from their teachers, than from their friends, or online?" Rob asked him.

Dean shook his head slowly. "You know, I remember when you used to run around here yelling, and playing with action figures."

"That's so cute," Suzanne remarked, smiling at her boyfriend. "I'll bet you were adorable."

"Anyway, my original point was: I figured she was close enough, so I got Angela a cell phone," Frank interjected.

"Really? A child that young?" Cas said, surprised.

Frank shrugged. "I know. That's what I thought, too. It was different, back in our day. We used to run around all summer, playing sports, riding our bikes, and stuff like that. Now they just sit there, playing with their devices. They text each other, even when they're sitting in the same room together! It's crazy. But all her friends have 'em, and these two talked me into letting her have one, too." He nodded his head toward Rob and Suzanne. "Besides, she's gonna play softball, next spring. We made a deal. I don't want her sitting around like some lump on the couch, staring at a screen all day."

"She's going to play softball? That's great!" Gail enthused. "Make sure you tell Bobby about that. I'm sure he'd love to give her some coaching tips."

"I'll do that," Frank responded, nodding. He got up from his seat. "OK, who's on break, now?"

"I am," Sam said. "Actually, I think I'm going to bow out. I want to Skype Eileen." He looked at his brother, and then at the Angels. "I'll tell her you guys said hi." He left the room, picking up the towel he'd been using on the way out.

"Sam's got a girlfriend," Rob uttered in a singsong voice.

"Really? What are you, seven?" his father said, shaking his head. "Come on, Suzanne, let's see if you can take me out, this time," Frank said affably, moving to where Rob's girlfriend stood.

"Bow your head," an imperious voice said to Gabriel.

What? The Archangel looked around, but there was no one visible.

"Phanuel tells me that you are refusing to do your duty," the voice stated. "He tells me that you are demanding to speak to me. I am willing to grant your request, but you must bow your head."

Gabe laughed scornfully. "You're not Dad. Why should I bow my head to you? More like, it should be the other way around. Bobby sits in the Office now, but I'm the one who's got the Archangel juice."

"True enough," the entity acknowledged, "but nevertheless, you will bow to me."

Gabriel fell to his knees, and he could feel his head lowering to the ground, of its own accord. He struggled to lift it, but it was no use. It was as if a giant hand was pushing it down.

"That's more like it," the voice said. Gabriel could see a pair of legs in front of him, now. Whoever this guy was, he was scary powerful. Gabe was giving it everything he had, but he couldn't budge. He felt a hand on his forehead. "I did not realize that you had such a strong mind. Though your powers are considerable, I had been led to believe that you were less interested in cerebral pursuits than hedonistic ones. Perhaps you will still have your uses, after the assassinations are complete."

"The assassinations?" Gabriel said, puzzled. There was a flash of brilliant aquamarine, and then suddenly, the Archangel remembered his mission. "I must find the third," he said tonelessly.

"That's correct," the voice said in a clipped tone. But then the temptation to reveal himself overcame him, and he removed his hand from Gabriel's head. "You may look upon me."

Gabriel lifted his head slowly, and as his eyes focused on the face of the individual at whose behest the Archangel had already murdered a writer of the Gospels and two Magi, Gabriel's mouth dropped open in astonishment. "You're a myth," he blurted out. "You don't exist."

"I know that there are many who believe what you are saying," the entity remarked calmly. "It suits my purposes for them to believe that. When the time comes, I will emerge, to claim what is rightfully mine. You have been a good servant so far, Gabriel, but I cannot take the chance of being unmasked before I am ready."

Gabriel was becoming angry now. "Look here, buddy-boy," he said through clenched teeth. "I don't care what you think is 'rightfully yours', I'm nobody's servant. I'm Gabriel, the freaking Archangel."

"I'm aware," the entity said dryly. "That is why I'm allowing you to live." He placed his hand on Gabriel's head again. "It's also why I've had to modify you, time and time again. Do your duty, Gabriel. Find the third member of the Magi and dispatch him. Then report to Phanuel, once it's done."

The aquamarine glow came again, suffusing Gabriel's vessel. Then it faded, and then the mysterious figure was gone. A moment later, Gabriel got up from his kneeling position and winked himself away, with absolutely no recollection of the identity of the Brother with whom he had been speaking.

It was late in the evening now, and all four occupants of the house had gone to bed.

Frank was sleeping fairly soundly, for a change. He was getting to an age where sound sleep was difficult to achieve, and to sleep through the night was damn near impossible. But the exercise at the bunker earlier had done him a world of good, and so had the drinks he'd had with his extended family there, afterwards. At times, Frank was a very lonely individual, even though he led a pretty full life. That was probably his own fault. People from the office kept inviting him to social functions, but he seldom went. Frank didn't feel much of an affinity for his co-workers. To him, they were living in a different world than he was. Much of that feeling could be chalked up to the fact that Frank still thought like a Hunter. Hunters were a different breed. It was like belonging to a secret club, or something. Even though Frank was a civil servant now, and to all outward appearances a normal suburban father, he didn't feel like he fit in. Gail laughed and said it was weird - and she was right - that their family talked so casually about weapons, and killing. Even joked about it. Meanwhile, the people at City Hall talked about saving money on their cable bill, and how to keep dandelions off their lawn. Frank didn't give a crap about any of that kind of stuff. People said he should start dating again. That was probably what a normal guy would do. But how could Frank bring himself to do something like that? Even if he took a woman out and they had a few laughs, then what? How was he supposed to explain who and what he really was to some strange woman? Hi, I'm Frank. I'm a Taurus, who likes long walks on the beach, cuddling, and severing the heads of the Undead. My sister's an Angel who's become a pint-sized killing machine, and God drops in to babysit my daughter a few times a month. Yeah. Riiiight. Besides, he'd meant what he'd said to the others in the training room tonight: even though Frank missed the affection and easy intimacy he'd had with Jody, the thought of trying that with another woman was just...as Angela and her little friend Jackie might say...yucky.

Even though he was sleeping fairly well, Frank tossed and turned as he dreamt the dreams of a person whose subconscious was conflicted. He dreamt that he was at his desk at work, tippy-tapping away at his computer. Then he was at the bunker, having a beer with Sam and Dean. All pretty standard stuff. Boring, even. But then, the scene switched to his and Gail's childhood home in Denver. And there was Vincent, killing Frank's Mom and Dad. Why? Just...because. They owed the bastard for that, and for so many other things. That was the moment everything had turned to shit, right there. No; wait. That wasn't fair. Yes, things had been touch-and-go there for a number of years, but then one night, Frank and Gail had been kidnapped by those three fugly Demons, and everything had changed again. Amazingly enough, for the better. Sure, Frank had died, but so had Gail, and so had Sam and Dean. But their deaths had just been stepping stones, leading to the Great Adventure. Funny how that had worked out. And even though he'd met, married, and then lost the love of his life, Frank had to admit that things weren't too damn bad now.

So, what was it that was bugging him? If it wasn't for that loud, braying noise that was keeping him awake, maybe Frank could -

Loud? Braying? The alarm system in the house!

Frank leapt out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweat pants from the floor. He put them on, jumping one-legged to the closet. Then, as he shoved his other leg in and pulled them up with one hand, Frank went into the lockbox with the other. When Angela was born, Frank and Jody had locked the weapons up, just to be on the safe side. It occurred to him now that his daughter was probably old enough to be taught how to be around weapons safely. Lord knew with their family, the subject was bound to come up sooner, rather than later.

He put that on a mental To Do list, but right now, he had to protect his family. Frank grabbed the gun and loaded it, with the speed and dexterity of many years' experience. Then he rushed out of his bedroom, praying that it was a false alarm.

It wasn't. As Frank descended the stairs, he saw that the front door to the house was wide open. He quickly glanced outside but saw no one, so he shut the front door and entered the code to turn off the alarm.

Silence. Thank God. But now, Frank had to worry about someone being in the house. He moved quickly through the hallway towards the kitchen and the corridor leading to the kids' rooms. Checking on them was Job One.

He crept through the kitchen holding the gun in the ready position, squinting in the dark. Suddenly, he snagged his foot on the leg of one of the kitchen chairs, dragging it across the floor with a loud, scraping sound. Great. Rob never pushed the chair in when he got up. Never, even though his dad had told him about that, a million times. Now, Frank had a sprained toe, and the burglar would have a heads-up.

Frank flipped on the kitchen light. Then, the one in the hallway. Nothing. Nobody. If there had been an intruder, he must have been scared off by the alarm. Frank himself had nearly had a heart attack when he'd heard it. The cops were gonna be here soon, and he was going to have to apologize and tell them that it had been an accident, just like every sitcom that he had ever seen on TV. How embarrassing.

But he rushed down the hallway anyway, just to make sure. Frank opened the door to Angela's room and flipped on the light, and there was his daughter, in her bed. Poochie and Ralph were sitting in their usual spots on the nightstand, on either side of the lamp, standing guard over her. It was with mixed emotions that Frank noted she hardly ever slept with her two best friends, any more. Yet they still remained near her, ready and waiting, should they be needed. Angela was growing up and making human friends, the way it should be, but the sight still hurt Frank's heart more than a little.

He moved to his daughter to check and make sure she was all right, and as Frank touched her cheek, Angela stirred. "Hi, Daddy," she said, yawning widely. Then she rolled over, pulling the covers up so that just a tuft of her hair was showing, and promptly fell asleep again.

Frank looked at her. Unbelieveable. Must be nice. He looked at Poochie and Ralph, making a gesture, but they had nothing to contribute. Frank shook his head and exited Angela's room, turning off the light on his way out.

He knocked when he got to Rob and Suzanne's room, of course. While it was extremely doubtful that they would be doing anything he shouldn't see with all the lights in the house on and the cops on the way, there was no way he was taking any chances. Based on the way the two of them were in front of other people, Frank was sure that they were doing plenty of other stuff behind closed doors. But they were adults, and Frank didn't really care. He just didn't want to see it, hear it, or think about it. Just like Gail and Cas. Things had been a little dicey at first, until Frank had had to adjust his attitude. When Cas had brought Gail's brother back from Hell and Frank had realized the nature of the Angels' relationship, for a while there, Frank's imagination had run riot. Cas was defiling his little sister in every disgusting way imaginable, in every room of every house. And, what was arguably worse, Gail was into it, and she didn't care whether Frank heard them or not. None of that had been true, of course. Cas and Gail held hands and smooched a lot, but whatever else they did, they kept it private. It had been Frank's hangup, not theirs. Once he had been able to let go of his image of his sister as a little girl wearing ribbons in her hair and hugging stuffed animals, Frank had been able to let go of the other, more disturbing, images. That had probably helped pave the way to his being able to accept Rob and Suzanne's adult relationship now.

But as Frank knocked on Rob's door for the second time, he was wondering: why weren't the two of them out here already, yawning and asking him what all the noise was about? Or, better still, why wasn't Rob out here, with his own gun in hand?

"I'm coming in, you guys, so don't be doing anything you don't want me to see," Frank announced loudly. He waited a beat, grabbed the doorknob, and swung the door open.

The lamp by the bedside was on and the bed was unmade, but the room was empty.

No, wait: there was a piece of paper on the bed. Frank strode forward, grabbing the note.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Frank told the police officers who had shown up in response to the alarm. "I promise, it won't happen again."

The two cops exchanged glances. Yeah. Sure. That was what they all said. Still, these things did happen from time to time, and as long as it didn't happen too often, they were willing to let it slide.

Frank closed the front door after seeing the cops out, and the fake smile he'd been wearing disappeared. The note had said no cops, and now, they were gone. Now, it was time to call for some real assistance.

Both Rob and Suzanne had struggled with their bonds, but it was no use. The guys who'd brought them here and tied them up really knew what they were doing.

They were both conscious now, and relatively unharmed, although Rob had a drying rivulet of blood coming down his cheek from the top of his head, where the one guy had clubbed him.

"What's going on here, Suze?" Rob asked his girlfriend now. "How do you know these guys, and how do they know you?"

Her stomach was churning. She should have told him the truth about herself, a long time ago. It wasn't fair to put Rob and his family in such mortal danger. He'd shared everything with Suzanne by now; Hunting, Angels, monsters, Demons...everything. She and Rob were in love. Suzanne knew Rob was a good man, and his family was slightly wacky, but they were all good people, too. The humans and the Angels, both. They had accepted her into the fold, making her feel welcome. Even helped her learn how to defend herself. Not that it mattered, of course. With guys like these, it didn't matter how confident and self-assured you thought you felt, or how safe you thought you were. The minute you thought you were safe was the minute you were screwed. The rest of Suzanne's family had found that out, the hard way. She was the only one left alive, and now, she had killed Rob and his family too, just by being around them.

"I'm sorry, Rob," she said, starting to cry. "I should have told you. I should have warned you about myself, from the very beginning. Now we're all going to die, and it'll be all my fault."


	10. VIGNETTE - Lord, Protect My Child

VIGNETTE – LORD, PROTECT MY CHILD

Cas scanned the note Frank handed to him, and his frown deepened. "So, is this man holding Rob and Suzanne for ransom?" he asked his brother-in-law.

"That's just it, Cas. It doesn't say anything about money. It just says I'm supposed to go to that address, alone and not involve the police, if I ever want to see them alive, again," Frank replied, puzzled.

Cas's eyes narrowed. Could Alice be behind this? No, he didn't think that was the case. Alice would have killed Rob immediately, just as she had done to Eric and had attempted to do to Rob, had Eric's quick reflexes not saved his brother's life. Besides, what would Alice want with Suzanne?

Did Frank have any enemies, besides the ones he had acquired by proxy, because he was related to Cas? His brother-in-law asked him.

"No, Cas. No. Nothing like that," Frank assured him. "And, before you ask, neither does Rob. We're just ordinary people." Cas lifted one eyebrow, and Frank added, "You know what I mean. It's funny, though," he continued, musing aloud. "I feel like I should know who that guy is, for some reason. Does his name sound familiar to you?"

"No, Frank." Cas shook his head. Much of the time, he and Gail were preoccupied with Heaven's business, not Earth's. That was why Benoit Levesque and what he had been doing in Paris had escaped their notice for so long.

"Wait. Wait a minute," Frank said, snapping his fingers. "I think I do remember where I've seen that guy's name before. I thought he was a real weirdo, at first. I mean, who signs a note like that? Usually, criminals don't want you to know who they are. But if that guy is who I think he is..."

Frank rushed across the living room of his house and grabbed the laptop. Cas stood there waiting, but his thoughts were racing. Who had taken the young people, and why? And why had Frank called Cas and told him to come here by himself and not tell anyone, even Gail, about it?

As Gail's brother waited for the information he'd been looking for to load, Cas asked Frank the latter question.

The thing was, Frank didn't know; not really. Not as far as he was willing to admit to, anyway. Not yet, and not out loud. He shrugged, feeling awkward. Frank was generally a very straight shooter, as Bobby might say. Honest to a fault, with a certain code of morals and ethics. He and his sister shared the same kinds of ideals; therefore, she would probably not be on board for the true reason that Frank had called Cas, and only Cas, to come here in response to Rob and Suzanne's abduction.

Finally. The information Frank had been looking for. Aww, geez. His heart sank into his stomach. Now Frank was sure he'd made the right decision when he'd called Cas.

"Is that the man whose name is on the note, Frank?" Cas asked his brother-in-law, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Who is it?"

"You and I watch a lot of movies," Suzanne began, and Rob was puzzled by her use of what seemed to be a non sequitur. But he waited for her to continue, and after clearing her throat nervously, she did.

"That was why I believed you, about the monsters and the Angels, and the Demons," Suzanne said to her boyfriend. "All of it. I know that there are a lot of things out there that can't be explained by logic, or science. And everybody's got their own story. I should have told you about this when we first started getting serious, but I kept on putting it off. Making excuses not to. But now, I've put your whole family in danger by not warning you."

Rob was trying to stay patient with her, but his wrists hurt where the ropes were biting into his flesh, and he had to pee like a racehorse. His dad always joked that, because he was getting old now, he never failed to have a pee before going to bed for the night. Why hadn't Rob taken Frank's advice?

But overshadowing everything was the predicament they found themselves in now. At least once Rob found out what was going on here, they could start to figure out a way to deal with it. "Just tell me, already," Rob pled with his girlfriend.

"Ilya Yelchin," Frank said.

"Who?" Cas leaned over his brother-in-law's shoulder, squinting at the man's photo.

"He's a Russian mobster," Frank said through gritted teeth. "According to everything I've read in the newspapers and seen on the TV news, he came over here about ten years ago and started muscling in on organized crime, in several states. Got quite a few of his men killed, in the process. He never shows his face in public: I'm surprised they were even able to get this picture."

Cas was still squinting. The photo was black-and-white, and extremely grainy. It was difficult to make out his features. "What does this man have to do with the situation?" Cas asked Frank.

"Beats me, but that was the name on the note," Frank said, scrolling down. Then, he came upon something that made his blood run cold.

"I'm in the Witness Protection Program," Suzanne told Rob with a heavy sigh. "I've been waiting to be called in to testify against a Russian mob boss named Ilya Yelchin. I saw him kill a man."

"What?!" Rob exclaimed, but he lowered his voice immediately. He had no idea where they were, or who might be nearby.

Suzanne sighed again. "I know what you're going to say. I'm a walking, talking movie cliché. I was volunteering at a hospital, and the lady at the desk sent me to a patient's room with a trolley full of flowers. I didn't know it at the time, but the patient I was delivering all that stuff to was the grandfather of the head of one of the organized crime gangs in the city. I saw Yelchin putting some kind of liquid in the patient's IV bag. He heard the cart, because it had a squeaky wheel. So, he turned around and saw me. They told me later that I'm the only one who's ever gotten a good look at him, let alone seen him committing a murder. Well, I'm the only one still alive, anyway," she added wryly.

Rob was looking at his girlfriend, open-mouthed. Holy crap. She was right; this sounded just like the movies. "So, what happened?" he asked her.

"Like I said, it was one big movie cliché after another," Suzanne replied. "I shoved the cart at him when he came after me, and it knocked him onto the floor. Then, I ran. I ran out into the parking lot, drove home, and told my parents. They took me to the police station, and I gave the cops a statement. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Rob's stomach clenched. "What happened after that?"

"I...I..." Suzanne began to cry again. "I got my whole family killed, that's what happened!" she wailed. "The phone started to ring at different times of the day and night, and it was different people, telling me to keep my mouth shut, or my family would all die. Then, when it came out in the news that Yelchin was under indictment, my mom came home from the supermarket and found my brother JJ, hanging from a rope in our basement. Half his face was missing, and there was a note pinned to his chest with a knife. It said: 'Keep your mouth shut'."

Rob's eyes were misted over. He hated to see Suzanne cry. And now, of course, he knew what the rest of the story would be. She had told him that she used to have a brother, two sisters, and a mother and father. USED to have.

"We moved, but it didn't do us any good," Suzanne said wearily. "People wondered why he didn't just kill me, but that would've been too quick. Too easy. No; I was being punished, because I'd stood up to him. He killed my whole family, and still, I told the authorities that I would testify against the bastard. There's been one stupid, bureaucratic delay after the other, but the FBI really wanted me to testify, so they gave me a new name and relocated me here, to Lebanon." She laughed shortly. "I'm not even a natural blonde."

Rob was starting to get angry, now. "So why aren't they helping you?" he asked his girlfriend. "If it's called 'Witness Protection', where's your protection?"

Suzanne stared at him sadly. "There IS none," she said in a blunt tone. "The Agent who was my contact is now 'unavailable'. At least, that was the official position, whenever I've called the number I was given. I don't even know if they're still planning to go ahead with the trial, or not. All I know is, I don't want any of you to die because of me. I don't know who I thought I was kidding, taking lessons in self-defense. There's no way any of that would really work, in a case like this. You saw how easily we were taken out of our beds, in the middle of the night. He's never going to give up, Rob. He's not going to give up until he kills you all."

"It says here that they indicted Yelchin for murder and racketeering, but he never stood trial," Frank told Cas, frowning. "Guess why? Lack of witnesses."

Cas nodded, expressionless. He was in soldier mode now, thinking like the enemy. If the target was Suzanne, why would Yelchin have had his men take Rob, too? Were the two young people even still alive? And why was Frank being summoned to go to the address? Was it Frank that this man wanted? None of this was making any sense to Cas, not from a strategic standpoint.

"I'll come with you, of course," Cas told his brother-in-law, checking his inside pocket for his blade, even though he knew it was there.

"I'll give you my gun, too," Frank said, shutting off the computer. "If this is the kind of setup I think it might be, he'll have his stooges search me, when I get there. It's probably better if they don't find a weapon on me, at least not until we find out what's going on. If you can do your Angel thing, we'll find out if we can go in easy, or if we have to kick some Russian gangster ass. And, Cas?"

"Yes, Frank?" his brother-in-law said calmly.

"You asked me why I wanted you to come alone, without Gail," Frank said briskly, moving to get his gun. "Actually, there are a couple of reasons, now." He grabbed the weapon and checked the clip, then gave the gun to Cas. He didn't have to worry about having a loaded gun laying around the house, not right now. As soon as Frank had realized what was happening here, he'd taken Angela across the street to Joanne, pleading a sudden family illness. Jackie's mother had taken Angela in, of course, saying that she could stay there as long as Frank needed her to.

As Cas stashed the gun on his person, looking at Frank inquiringly, Gail's brother said, "One, you speak Russian. And, two: If these guys hurt one hair on my kid's head, or Suzanne's, I want the one guy with me who I know I can count on to kill every last son of a bitch in the place."

Cas looked at Frank evenly, then gave his brother-in-law a curt nod. "Let's go," he said, extending his hand.

In order not to arouse any suspicion, Cas had told Gail that it was Dean who had called him, to come to the bunker.

"Dean!?" she had exclaimed. "In the middle of the night? What's HE want?"

"I don't know," Cas said uncomfortably. He wasn't used to lying to his wife. But Frank had sounded extremely agitated, and he had said not to involve his sister, so Cas had merely blurted out the first name he could think of. "But he said he wants to see me alone."

Gail rolled her eyes. Dean had been cranky ever since they'd gotten back from Paris. Cas had said their friend was bored, and she supposed she could understand that, in a way. But, geez, he was a grown man. It wasn't up to them to keep him entertained.

Then again, it wasn't Cas's fault that his best friend had ants in his pants. And it could have been worse; at least she and Cas didn't sleep. They had been sitting up in the living room of their Earth home, in fact. Cas had been reading some of the notes that Kevin's team had compiled on the Unholy Trinity, for lack of a better term, and Gail had been idly leafing through the files on Vincent's remaining children that she had taken from the bunker. According to her calculations, there should only be a dozen left. She'd had an idea when they had first set off for Paris that it might be possible to form an alliance with some of them, but that notion had been ridiculous, she realized now. Cody had seemed like a decent enough young man, but as far as they knew, the rest of the youths had willingly aided Benoit with his Fascist agenda. And Jerry was still a child. Though Michelle had reported that the adolescent was happy, and had not acted out since, any thoughts of enlisting his help were presently out of the realm of consideration.

Gail was still thinking about all of this when Cas had received his call and given her a quick kiss goodbye, telling her he would return soon. Maybe it was just as well that she was preoccupied, as she didn't think to question her husband any further about the strange phone call he had received in the middle of the night.

After Cas left, Gail took a pad of paper and a pen, writing down the names and locations of Vincent's remaining offspring. There were her and Rob, Jerry, and Damien, whose whereabouts were currently unknown. Then there was Raymond, the original son of Vincent and Placida, who was at last report a Christian, associated with a Baptist church in the South. There was a woman who would be in her early 30s now, who was listed as a psychic. Her file had only a name, and a location: "Europe". Yep. Really helpful, Gail thought sarcastically.

Gail made a mark beside the psychic's name. That made six. And here was another girl, who was probably in her upper teens now. Her last known location was Los Angeles, California. Gail felt a pang of sadness, remembering Aggie. She wondered what these young women would be like.

Five more. Gail leafed through the files again, setting aside the ones she had already looked at. The information was not very detailed on the remaining "kids". They would have to get Sam on the case. At least they had names, approximate ages, and last known whereabouts. Still like looking for needles in a haystack, maybe, but Sam probably had some tricks up his sleeve. He'd always been able to come through, before.

There was a man in his 40s mentioned in the next file she picked up, who was listed as a teleporter. It was funny how incomplete the documentation was. Haphazard, almost. Gail supposed Cathy Scanlon had had other things on her mind when she had jotted these notes down, or maybe it was just because neither she nor Vincent had cared enough about them to keep track, after the kids had been farmed out. That sounded about right to her, Gail thought wryly. But at least she'd had a decent upbringing, especially compared to so many of the others. Yes, Frank's parents had been distant, favouring him over the odd little misfit child Christina had brought home. But Gail had never been mistreated, or passed around from place to place like many of them.

Back to the files. She was "woolgathering", as Cas would say. Thinking of her husband made Gail smile, as always. He was a good friend to Dean, going over there to...what? What could Dean want to talk to Cas about, in the middle of the night? Guy stuff? What would that entail, exactly? Didn't Dean have Sam for that? Unless... maybe he wanted to talk to Cas about Nicole. Poor Sam didn't seem to have a lot of luck in the relationships department. He and Eileen were still Skypeing, if that was the right term. But it wasn't the same, in Gail's opinion. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be on a separate continent from the one you loved. She and Cas were almost never apart these days, and even when they were, like now, she knew that he would be back soon. It was unimaginable to her now to think of spending even one day not being able to kiss her husband, or hold his hand. Not to mention all the other things they liked to do with each other. She smiled again. They'd been able to have some very romantic interludes here in their Earth home, ever since they'd gotten back from Paris. It was the height of summer now, but they kept the air conditioner running in the bedroom, and Bobby had gifted them with a central air system for the rest of the house. Gail kept the temperature in the place so cool that Cas sometimes wore a sweater, or his robe, if they were sitting around idly. In fact, he'd had to shrug his robe off and put on his blazer to go to the bunker tonight. That amused Gail on a couple of levels. Cas would never ask her to turn down the air conditioner, so she would look at him clad in a sweater sometimes, and envision them as an old married couple. Maybe he would acquire a taste for tea, and she could take up knitting, or something.

Gail laughed. Yeah. Right. Cas may be old, but there was no way. She could think of much more fun things for them to do together than those.

OK; this was ridiculous. Cas had only been gone for ten or fifteen minutes, and she was sitting here fantasizing about him as if she hadn't seen him in days. She shook her head slowly, smiling. The summer was hot, and so was her husband. Maybe Gail should call Nicole and talk about the men, if they were going to talk about her and Nicole.

Then again, if she finished this list now, unless Cas wanted to talk to her about Dean when he came back, she could put it down and encourage Cas to take her clothes off, instead. That would sure beat taking up knitting.

Let's see; where was she? Four more files. She pulled the next one onto her lap and opened it. There was a picture in the file, which was unusual. A slender Caucasian man with tattoos on his arms. His last known whereabouts were listed as Regina, Saskatchewan. Hmm. If he still lived there, he should be easy enough to find. But there was a word written beside the man's name in red ink, in capital letters: UNDESIRABLE. Okay; that was really strange. What did it mean?

Gail had been wondering why none of the people she was seeing here had been at the compound, and now, that notation gave her pause: were there some children of Vincent's who were too abhorrent, even for him? The thought made her shudder. Yikes. How bad did you have to be, to be deemed "undesirable" by someone as horrible as her father?

Two more men and one woman later, and Gail's list was done. This was going to be quite the project, she thought, tapping the pen on the pad of paper. The problem was, they were running out of time. Damien was due to turn ten years of age in November, and the silence from Vincent's camp was eerie. So far, nothing Apocalyptic of note had happened. Presumably, that meant that Vincent was still looking for the False Prophet. So were Kevin and his team of Heavenly scholars, but they had come up empty. They had produced a report for Cas to read, but there was very little in it that they could actually use. Kevin had had a few vague visions of a man in tattered robes, preaching to a congregation of a few dozen people. He couldn't see the man's face, of course, or zero in on his location. No; that would make it much too easy, wouldn't it? Gail sighed. She knew that Kevin was trying his best, and so were the Angels who were in his charge. It was frustrating for all of them.

What was even more frustrating was that she and Cas had no idea what to do about the situation. They had also been hitting the books, as had Gabriel. After their Brother's disappearing act in Paris, once she and Cas had gotten back, Cas had tracked Gabe down and demanded an explanation. Whatever his Brother had told him hadn't really satisfied Cas as far as explanations went, but Gail hadn't heard it first-hand, as he had gone to meet with Gabriel alone. Cas had told his wife that the Archangel might be inclined to be less than forthcoming if Gail were there, especially if his absence was due to...hedonistic pursuits. Gail had stared at Cas for a moment, and then she had gotten it. He'd been trying to spare her feelings, in case Gabe was running around chasing women. She appreciated her husband's consideration, but Gail intended to tell him that she would just have to get over it, the next time the subject came up. They couldn't just keep tiptoeing around the subject.

And then, there was Crowley. Cas hadn't bothered to seek him out. That was probably just as well, because the two of them had such a contentious relationship to begin with. Bobby had been dealing with the King of Hell on Heaven's behalf. If you could call it that, Gail thought, frowning. Allegedly, Crowley had no information to give, even though he'd expressed interest in locating Abbadon, and working with the Angels to elicit intel from her. What was going on, there? Gail had no idea. Dean seemed to think that Crowley had some kind of a back-room deal worked out with Vincent, but Gail thought that Dean was wrong about that. Unless something very radical had happened to change the landscape, she knew that Vincent had always viewed Crowley with contempt. Also, Vincent was the type of man who would always want to be the Alpha in any alliance. Crowley would never agree to terms like that. And besides, he and Abbadon hated each other with a passion. So maybe, just maybe, Crowley was actually telling them the truth. For a change.

Gail put the files down on the coffee table, leaving her list on top. She sighed. How long was Cas going to be gone? Not too much longer, she hoped. She grabbed the TV remote.

Frank was in the inner office now, sitting in a chair across from a huge mahogany desk. The goons who had met him at the door had looked at the note as if it were some kind of invitation to a party, frisked him for weapons, and then let him in, telling him that the Boss would be there shortly. Frank was trying to appear calm and wait patiently for Yelchin to arrive, but his guts were churning. The only thing that was keeping him from losing his damn mind right now was the knowledge that Cas was here somewhere, doing his thing.

A door on the opposite end of the room opened, and Ilya Yelchin walked in. He came over to where Frank sat, surprising Gail's brother by extending his hand for a shake.

Frank stared at the mobster's hand, and after a moment, Yelchin withdrew it, frowning. He moved around the desk and sat in the chair, eyeing Frank with a cold stare.

"Why did you take my kids, and what's it gonna take to get them back?" Frank said bluntly.

"You Americans. You are always in so much the hurry," Yelchin remarked. He lifted a crystal decanter and poured half a glass of amber liquid into a tumbler. For an instant, Frank had a dizzying sense of déjà vu. Except for the thick Russian accent, this guy could almost be Crowley.

But Yelchin didn't offer Frank a drink. He merely leaned back in his chair and said, "The boy is yours, but the girl is not. I know that, because you are still alive. None of her real family are. I have seen to that."

Frank was doing the slow burn now. "OK, I get it," he said through clenched teeth. "I know who you are, and what you do. Just tell me: how do I get them back?"

"If you know who I am and what I am capable of, then you will show me some respect," the mobster said coolly. "It just so happens I was considering releasing your son, if both of you can demonstrate that you are willing to 'play ball', as goes the expression."

Frank's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I do my research," the man said in response. "I know that you and certain members of your family are Hunters, with access to an interesting assortment of weapons. I am prepared to offer you and your son employment in my organization."

Frank looked at him incredulously. "Employment?" he echoed. "As what? Do you have a closet full of monsters at home, or something?"

"Monsters come in many forms," Yelchin remarked. "There are those who would say that I am a monster. And, maybe I am."

Maybe? Frank thought scornfully, but he kept his mouth shut. He'd better not push it too much with this guy. Still, Frank couldn't help but think that maybe his earlier, unwitting comparison had been wrong: at the moment, Yelchin was actually sounding more like an Angel, with all this evasive crap.

The man gave Frank a cold smile. "I can see that you want the bottom line, so I will give it to you: I am offering you and your son job, as assassins for my organization. If you accept, the two of you can walk out of here tonight, unharmed."

"What about Suzanne?" Frank asked him.

"Suzanne? Oh, is that the name she is using now?" Yelchin said, puzzling Gail's brother. But Frank had no idea that Suzanne wasn't really Suzanne at all. As far as the Russian mobster was confirmed, she was a gnat who had been flitting around, annoying him for far too long. Yelchin had murdered her entire family, yet she had stubbornly insisted that she was going to testify against him, anyway. Well, there would be no trial, now. Yelchin had seen to that, employing the usual methods. The girl was merely a loose end, at this point. There was no longer a compelling reason for she or anyone she cared for to die. That was how most men of business would have viewed things, anyway. But Yelchin was not like most men, a fact that these Americans would soon discover.

"That little matter will be taken care of, tonight," the gangster assured Frank. "You may look on it as your job interview. Before I allow you and your son to leave here, one or both of you will eliminate her."

Gail jumped off the couch, startled, as Cas suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room with Rob and Suzanne, who were still bound to the chairs. Cas was bloody, but the young people seemed physically fine.

"I have no time to explain," Cas told his wife. "We'll return shortly." Then he popped out again.

Frank laughed out loud. He knew he shouldn't be pissing this guy off, but he couldn't help it.

"You're nuts," he said to Yelchin. "That's never gonna happen."

Yelchin shrugged. "You will change your mind once you see your son screaming, and writhing with pain."

Aww, geez. Frank's heart sank into his stomach. He'd read that this guy's "organization" was small, but they were vicious. Victims of the gang were usually taken apart, piece by piece, before they were murdered. If he and Rob refused to kill Suzanne, which they would, of course, Frank would be forced to watch as those thugs pulled body parts off of Rob, one at a time. Maybe Yelchin would even do it himself, just to make a point. Mob bosses seldom got their own hands dirty, but obviously, Yelchin was short on personnel. Besides, he was probably a sadistic son of a bitch. You couldn't have people killed the ways that he did, and not be.

Frank took a deep breath, stalling. Where the hell was Cas?

Gail rushed over to the young couple. "What the hell?!" she exclaimed. "Are Sam and Dean OK? What were you guys doing at the bunker, in the middle of the night? Who tied you up?"

Rob was giddy with relief, now that Suzanne was all right. Oh, and himself too, of course. "Uhhh...if you'll stop bombarding us with questions, we can tell you what's going on," he said dryly. "But first, can you get me untied? I have to pee like you wouldn't believe!"

Oh. Right. Sometimes, Gail forgot about that kind of stuff, since she didn't ever have to worry about it, herself. She peered at his bonds. "I think that's a little too risky for my laser beam blade thing," she remarked. "I'll get one of the big butcher knives from the kitchen."

She popped over to the kitchen and got the knife out of a drawer, then popped back out to Rob. But as she started to crouch to cut the ropes binding his legs together, Rob said, "Sorry, Gail, but can you free Suzanne, first?"

"I thought you had to pee," she objected.

"Yeah, I do, but I forgot what Uncle Cas taught me about ladies, first," Rob said sheepishly.

Despite her confusion as to what exactly was going on here, Gail smiled. Yep, that sounded like her husband, all right. She started to move over to Suzanne, but the young woman was shaking her head.

"It's OK, Gail," Suzanne said. "I can wait for a minute. We'd better get Rob freed, first, so he doesn't pee all over your carpet."

"Good point," Gail said, her lips twitching. She turned back to Rob. "I'd better free you first, or I might have to hit you on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper."

Rob groaned. "Don't make me laugh, right now. Please."

She started to work her way through the ropes. Fortunately, Cas kept the kitchen knives as sharp as he kept their Angel blades. She nearly smacked herself on the forehead. She could have just cut them with her Angel blade, couldn't she have? Gail rolled her eyes. Oh, well. She would just put it down to the sudden shock of seeing Cas appear with these two in tow, out of the blue.

Rob was freed in minutes, and he jumped up from the chair. "BRB," he said hastily. He went running down the hall, stumbling a bit as the feeling started to come back in his legs.

As Gail began to saw a bit more delicately through Suzanne's ropes, the girl said, "What did you mean, when you asked us about being at the bunker in the middle of the night?"

The women talked for a couple of minutes, and by the time Rob came back into the living room, smiling with relief, Gail had pieced most of it together. The only thing she didn't know for sure was whose lame-ass idea it had been to leave her out of the rescue operation: her brother's, or her husband's. Oh, well. Looking on the bright side, at least these two were safe now, and her rug was pee-free.

Suzanne left her chair as quickly as her boyfriend had. "Power of suggestion," she said, hurrying down the corridor.

Gail looked at Rob, who was staring after his girlfriend with a goofy-looking smile. "Now that I don't have to rent a rug shampooing machine, do you want to tell me what the hell is really going on, here?" she asked him dryly.

Cas had wanted to make sure that Rob and Suzanne were safely away from the den before he did anything else, because he'd known that Frank would want it that way, and because the safety of the young people had been the primary mission. He'd known that Gail would be mystified and probably angry that he had lied to her, too, but it couldn't be helped.

When he popped back over to the gangster's den, the first thing Cas did was move stealthily from room to room and corridor to corridor, killing the remainder of Yelchin's associates with his blade. He had already killed the ones who had been guarding the door of the room where Rob and Suzanne had been held. Then he came upon a heavy oak door, popping inside when he heard Frank conversing with a man who had a Russian accent.

When Cas popped directly into the room, his bloody blade held high, Yelchin had been pouring himself another drink from the decanter. Cas's sudden appearance startled him, causing him to spill some of the liquor on his hand.

"It's about time," Frank said impatiently, smirking at the look on the mobster's face. Clearly, his intel wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"The subjects are safe," Cas said briskly. He popped over to where Frank sat, handing his brother-in-law the gun that Frank had given him, back at the house. Then he popped over to where Yelchin sat and, before the man could react, Cas had grabbed his arms and handcuffed him to the chair. He frisked Yelchin thoroughly, but the man had no weapons on him.

Frank stood up, keeping the gun at the ready, but it looked like Cas had things pretty much under control. Still, it didn't hurt to be prepared.

"I'll be just a moment," Cas told him. He moved behind Yelchin and put his hands on either side of the Russian man's head.

"Are the kids OK?" Frank said anxiously. "How about this guy's stooges?"

"The subjects have been relocated, and all of the men who were here on the premises are dead," Cas replied tonelessly. Then his face relaxed, but only a tiny bit. "If you'll give me a minute, I'm going to search this man's mind and find out what further actions we need to take, the eliminate the threat."

"What is going on?" Yelchin demanded. "Who are you?"

Cas's head cocked to the side as he threaded his fingers through the mobster's thinning hair. "There are two more men entering the building at the side entrance, by the alley," he said to Frank, ignoring the crime boss. "Are you able to take care of them, while I obtain the information we need? They're rather large."

Frank was bemused. "Yeah, Cas. I'll be fine. Don't let this doughy, civil servant's body fool you. I think I can take out a couple of Neanderthal goons all by myself."

"Then do so, and return here," Cas said bluntly, frowning. Frank nearly did a double-take. He hadn't seen much of this side of Castiel before. But this was the Castiel he had called on for help, and his brother-in-law was taking care of business, wasn't he?

Frank left the office quietly, making sure the safety was off on the gun he was holding. An instant later, he heard Yelchin's screams. He paused for a second, the hairs standing up on his arms. But then, he reminded himself of who and what that man was, and of the fact that he had threatened to force those same kinds of sounds out of Frank's son, a couple of minutes ago. No, Frank wasn't going to spend one second feeling sorry for the guy. Monsters came in many forms.

He continued on down the hall.

Rob and Suzanne filled Gail in on what had happened, and the reason Yelchin was after the young girl. They were sitting at the kitchen table. Gail had made a pot of coffee, and there was a bottle of brandy in the middle of the table that she had snatched from the bar they had set up at one end of the living room. So far, Suzanne had imbibed, but Rob had not. He had his hands wrapped around his coffee cup, as if warming them up. Gail wondered if he was truly cold, or if it was just the stress of their recent ordeal that was making him tremble.

Suzanne was staring into her coffee. She had poured a generous dollop of brandy into the mug, and was considering adding more. Then she shrugged, and did it. What did it matter? They couldn't possibly think any less of her, now. She had put Rob and his entire family in mortal danger. She and Rob were lucky to still be alive, but what about the rest of them? And what were they going to do, after tonight?

"I'm so sorry," Suzanne said, starting to cry. "This is all my fault."

"No, it isn't," Gail said firmly. "It's that mob guy's fault, not yours. I can't believe he killed your whole family. I wish we'd known you back then. That makes me so mad," she added, seething.

"At first, I was mad, too," Suzanne said, nodding. "Then, I was scared. But my parents raised me to do the right thing, and I kept on thinking about all his other victims, and their families. But it all blew up in my face. I thought everything would be better, once I was in the Witness Protection program, but - "

"Yeah. Right. More like the Witless Protection program," Rob said angrily, and Gail's lips twitched briefly. He sounded so much like his father, sometimes.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that you won't have to be so concerned about him, after tonight," Gail told the young couple. "I'm one hundred percent confident that Frank and your Uncle Cas will take care of Yelchin. Our family kills monsters, remember?"

Right on cue, Cas and Frank appeared in the middle of the room. Gail rose from her chair and went over to them, but Frank was already moving past her.

"Are you guys OK?" her brother said anxiously to Rob and Suzanne.

"We're fine, Dad," Rob assured him.

Suzanne nodded, but she was crying again. "I'm sorry, Frank!" she wailed. "When we get back to the house, I'll pack my bags, and I'll leave you all alone. I don't care what happens to me, as long as you guys are all OK. That's all that matters to me."

"I don't want you to leave the house," Rob protested immediately. He took her hand. "If you leave, I'm going with you." He looked at Frank. "But, maybe we should go. I don't want you and Angela to have to put up with our crap." He gave Suzanne's hand a squeeze.

Despite the drama of the situation, Gail smiled. It was good to see Rob supporting his girlfriend like that. Gail had just finished waving her hands over Cas, cleaning the blood from his clothes. Oh, yes. He and Frank had taken care of some business tonight, all right. Gail had the feeling that the danger had been rendered moot now, anyway.

She moved to Frank to clean him up as well, but he was moving away from Rob now, towards Suzanne. "You two aren't going anywhere," Gail's brother said to Rob's girlfriend. "There's no threat, any more. Cas and I took care of it."

And they had, too. Frank had taken out the two clowns who had come stomping down the hall, with takeout bags in hand. Because he'd had the heads-up from Cas, he had been able to shoot both men in the head before they'd even had the chance to react to his being there. Then, when Frank had gone back to Yelchin's office, Cas had been finishing up with his Carnac thing. Frank had grinned inwardly, wondering if his brother-in-law would get the reference.

"I know where the rest of his operatives are," Cas had said to Frank, removing his hands from Yelchin's head. A rivulet of blood trickled from the man's ear. Cas looked down at the Russian mobster dispassionately. Then the Angel took his blade out from his inside pocket. "Idi k chertu," he growled, pulling the mobster's head back by the hair and slitting his throat. He let Yelchin's head droop to the side, and as the blood poured from the wound, Cas stepped to the side. He bent over the desk, writing a note in Russian. Then he took a letter opener from the desktop and drove it into Yelchin's chest, pinning the note there.

Cas looked at Frank. "In case you're wondering, I told him to go to hell, because that's where he is headed," he told his brother-in-law. "The note warns any other gang member who may come along to leave our family alone. But it is a precaution, only. I have the location of the others. There are only a dozen of them, and they are currently gathered in a downtown speakeasy, waiting for their associates to arrive."

Frank was amused. A speakeasy? What, were they suddenly in Chicago in the Roaring Twenties, or something? Then again, who was he kidding? Cas probably HAD been there, helping the Feds to rub out organized crime. It wouldn't surprise Frank one bit to find out that that had been the case.

"We will go to this place, and eliminate them all," Cas said to his brother-in-law. "If there are any innocent witnesses, I can modify them."

And that was what they had done. The two of them had killed all twelve of those sons of bitches, who had been sitting at a long table in a private room at the club, like some kind of twisted portrait of the Last Supper. Cas and Frank had combined forces to take down a dozen vicious gangsters, and Cas hadn't even broken a sweat. Truth be told, the Angel had actually done the lion's share of the killing. He'd kind of reminded Frank of that movie Gail's brother had watched with little Robbie quite a few years ago. Frank could no longer remember the name of the movie, but there had been a scene in it where Mickey Mouse had done some kind of a magical spell to get a cartoon broom to do some cleaning up, all by itself. Or something like that, anyway. Seemed like a good enough idea. The trouble was, for some reason, the broom became two, then ten, then a whole army of brooms. Poor Mickey had tried to stop the broom army from going nuts, but the things took over and started to trash the place. They were doing the job they'd been created to do, but they were doing it a little too well. Seeing Cas in action had reminded Frank of that scene. Yikes. He was doubly glad that Gail hadn't gone with them, then. Which was probably ridiculous thinking, when he actually thought about it. As far as Frank could tell about his sister now, she would likely have been right in there with them, slicing and dicing. And she probably knew exactly how efficient an assassin Castiel was, too. But, still...

"Would you stand still for two seconds, so I can clean you up?" Gail said to Frank impatiently. He had been on the move again, heading to the cupboard to get himself a mug for the coffee.

"Sorry, kiddo," Frank said, grinning. He let his sister do her thing, marvelling at her casual use of her powers. Sexist or not, she and Cas must save a fortune on laundry detergent, he thought.

The men told Gail and the young couple about what they'd done, emphasizing the fact that Suzanne was no longer in any danger, rather than the violence they had employed to ensure that fact. And if a tiny, fractional part of Frank felt uneasy about the wholesale slaughter, well, he would just have to get over it. The most important thing a father could ever do was to protect his kids. The fact that the kid in this particular instance was actually an adult who was currently making googly eyes at his girlfriend notwithstanding.

Suzanne was on the verge of crying once again. To think that they had gone and done that for her, without a thought for their own safety... She said this out loud, but she said it hesitantly, as if she still couldn't quite believe it was true. After all this time, the weight of all the guilt and fear she had felt for the past few years had finally been lifted from her shoulders. It was such a shame that she hadn't known these people years ago. If she had, she might still have her own family. But the people she was sitting here with were turning out to be her family too, weren't they?

Frank was thinking along the same lines. "Look, Suzanne, we take care of each other around here, because that's what families do. You should have just told us what was going on, in the first place. But everything's been taken care of now, and everybody's fine. Let's just put the whole thing behind us, OK? Nobody's moving out, and nothing has to change."

"I don't agree, Dad," Rob said unexpectedly. The others looked at him quizzically. The young man started to smile. "I think at least one thing should change," Rob went on. He took both of Suzanne's hands in his. "I don't know your real first name, or even the true colour of your hair," he said to his girlfriend, his lips twitching with amusement, "but, none of that stuff matters. What I do know is that I love you, and I'm never letting go of you. Will you marry me?"


	11. Chapter 2 - Some Dreams Do Come True

Chapter 2 – Some Dreams Do Come True

It was the last weekend of the summer now, and Frank's extended family were getting ready to attend the party Gail's brother was calling the Birthday/Bridal Barbecue Bash.

Even though the end of the summer also signified a heightened sense of urgency as far as dealing with Damien and the others went, Cas had agreed to go to the party. The entire family had been invited, both humans and Angels, and they were all going to be there. It meant a lot to Frank that they were all coming, because they hardly ever got together like that, any more. None of them had seen Barry, Carolyn, Mike and the kids for ages. It was the same thing with many of the Angels; they hardly ever came down to Earth any more. Frank understood that this whole Apocalypse Prevention thing had to come first, but he missed their get-togethers.

This was a great excuse for a big gathering, though. Rob was getting married. Little Robbie, who had run around the bunker, calling them the X-Men. Standing up to Lucifer, himself, when Satan was menacing his family. Suffering through the desertion of his douchebag dad, and the murder of his adoptive Angel mother at the guy's hands. Enduring a year's separation from Frank and Jody in the midst of his adolescence, and then working their way through the uncomfortable postwar period, when Rob and his dad had fought way too often. But both men had matured and learned how to communicate on a more equal footing, thanks to Jody's loving patience. And ass-kicking too, of course, whenever that had been necessary. Then Baby Angela had come along, and unified their little family. Jody had been cruelly taken from them a few short years later, and then, so had Eric. But instead of fragmenting, their family had closed ranks, with the help of Cas, Gail, Sam, Dean, and Bobby. And now, they had been given the gift of Suzanne. Yes, they now knew that wasn't her real name, but that was the name she had gone by, and that was what she'd insisted she wanted to be called. That was the name she'd had when she and Rob had fallen in love.

So, celebrating his son's and soon-to-be daughter-in-law's engagement was the "Bridal" part. The "Birthday" part of the party's title had been Frank's idea. Angela's friend Jackie's birthday just happened to be on that same date, and since she and Angela were so close, Frank had offered to host Jackie, her mother Joanne, and a whole herd of their school chums and the neighbourhood kids. God help him. Actually, that was a literal statement, since God would be there. In fact, Bobby would be coming with a bunch of Angels, some of who Frank hadn't seen for ages. He was really looking forward to that.

Two of the Angels Frank had seen a fair amount of over the summer were in the comfort of their air-conditioned Earth home, getting dressed for the party.

"Are you finally going to break down and wear shorts to the party?" Gail teased her husband.

"You know I don't wear shorts," he said mildly, thumbing through the hangers on his side of the bedroom closet.

"Are you sure?" she said, her lips twitching. "It's really, really hot outside."

"That doesn't bother me," Cas replied, taking a pair of jeans out of the closet. "It can't be any hotter than Constantinople, in the 6th Century."

Gail opened her mouth, then closed it again. She had no retort for that, of course.

Now, Cas was selecting a shirt. "I'll wear a short-sleeved shirt, then. How would that be?" he asked his wife.

She smiled. "Now, we're getting somewhere. At least I'll get to see some muscles, that way."

Cas brought the fresh clothes over to the bed, showing her the combination of colours. It both amused her and made her feel good that he still did that with her. Cas was fully capable of picking out an outfit for himself that looked good; but many times, if they were together like this, he would present it to her, ostensibly for her approval.

As she gave him a slight nod and a smile, Cas untied the belt of his robe. "That's all right; I would much rather look at your legs, anyway," he told his wife. "They're much more attractive than mine."

He shed the robe, dropping it on the bed beside the outfit he had chosen. Then he picked up the shirt, shrugging it on. "I'm looking forward to seeing everyone today," he remarked.

"Me, too," Gail agreed. She leaned back on the bed on one elbow, watching her husband dress. It was crazy, but it was undeniable: watching Cas get dressed was almost as sexy as watching him undress. Or helping to undress him, herself.

OK, that did it. If she kept thinking along those lines, they would never get to Frank's party.

"I'd better check on the presents," she said hastily, scrambling off the bed.

"Why? Are they going to grow legs, and walk away?" Cas said, raising an eyebrow.

Gail looked back over her shoulder. Oh, geez. Now, he was giving her the eyebrow. Why had she turned around? "No, I just..." she gestured. How was she supposed to finish that sentence in a way that wouldn't make her seem like a complete -

"I texted Frank while you were in the shower, telling him we were running a little late," Cas told her, opening his arms. "Please, come here. The instant you looked at me that way, I knew I had done the right thing. It's all right. He said he wasn't expecting anyone for another hour or so, anyway." He smiled. "Plenty of time for us to make love, have another shower, get re-dressed, and chase down those runaway presents."

She laughed, walking back to where he stood. "Well, since you put it so logically..."

"There's nothing logical about the way I feel about you," Cas said softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her tenderly on the mouth. "Then again, maybe it's the most logical thing of all," he added. Gail slipped the shirt off his shoulders, and he lifted her top over her head.

Cas leaned down and kissed his wife's neck, and Gail ran her hands through his hair. He'd been right, she thought, smiling. On both counts.

"Hey, Winchester! How's the head zookeeper doing?" Frank yelled out the screen door at the back of the house.

"I either need a raise, or a lion tamer," Dean groaned. There were a couple of dozen kids running around in the back yard, and he was trying to keep an eye on all of them at the same time.

"How about some liquid courage?" Frank said, smirking.

Dean sighed. "I'll take what I can get, right now."

"Think fast," Frank advised his friend, and Dean's arm shot up. A second later, the elder Winchester caught the cold beer neatly, without even looking back at the house. "Good job!" Frank praised his friend.

Gail was standing beside her brother, shaking her head slowly. "While I admit that was impressive, I suspect it's not so much due to his catlike reflexes as to the fact that he has a deep-seated fear of spilling even one drop of alcohol," she wisecracked.

Cas put his arms around her waist from behind, kissing his wife on the cheek. "As his best friend, I can confirm that it's just as much the latter, as the former," he said with a smile.

Gail put her arms over his, holding them there. She thought back to a few hours ago, when they had been getting dressed once again. Something had suddenly occurred to her.

"What did you mean when you said, 'when I looked at you that way'?" she'd asked her husband.

He had paused in the act of getting dressed, looked at her, and then half-shrugged. "Oh, I don't know," Cas said casually. "Just...the way you look at me."

"Oh. Well, that clears THAT up, then," Gail had quipped. She'd been considering asking him for clarification, but they didn't have the time. They were running late, as it was.

"As much as I love watching you guys – uhhh - canoodle all over my house, do you think you could give me a hand, here?" Frank said dryly.

"Sure, Frank. What do you need?" Cas said affably.

"Since you saved my kids' lives, I'll let you pick," Frank said to his brother-in-law. "You can either peel about a million potatoes for the potato salad that's supposed to happen, or you can go out back, and help Dean wrangle those kids."

Gail shuddered. Pick the kids, pick the kids, pick the -

Cas's lips twitched as he looked at his wife's face. "I believe I'll go outside, and help Dean watch the children," Cas said, glancing in that direction. "He's starting to look a little panicked." He kissed Gail on her forehead. "Don't let your brother work you too hard," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. "I don't want you to have blisters, at the end of the day."

She grinned. "You know me better than that. I'll just rope some of the guys into helping me. Either that, or I'll just wink home and get my blade, and tell people it's a fancy new potato peeler I bought online."

Angela came running into the kitchen, passing Cas on his way out. She blew her uncle a kiss, making him smile.

"Hey, look! Here's the Head Monkey, now!" Frank said, looking at his daughter. "How's it going, out there? Are you guys terrorizing your Uncle Dean?"

"No, Dad!" She laughed. "I just came in to find out if we could have some snacks. Oh, and some pop, too."

"'Pop'?" Frank teased his daughter. "What's going on, out there? You spend ten minutes with your Canadian cousins, and suddenly, you're talking Canadian?"

"Hey! Take off, eh?" Nicole said, smirking. She walked into the kitchen, with Paul right behind. "Thanks for the lift," she said to their Angel friend.

Gail came forward, and the women hugged. "How's it going?" Gail asked Dean's girlfriend. "How's filming?"

Nicole rolled her eyes. "I'll tell you later. But right now, I guess I should rescue Dean from the clutches of those little monsters." She glanced at Frank. "Whoops. I mean...little children."

"No, you were right the first time," Frank said affably. "But since you're here, so you mind taking some food and drinks outside, so they don't start coming in here? I have to get everything ready for the amazing barbecue, later."

"At the risk of sounding like a stereotype, I can help with that," Paul piped up. "I make a mean barbecue sauce."

"That's a great idea," Gail said quickly. "Nicole and I will start taking the stuff outside for the kids, and you guys can start cooking." She grabbed Nicole by the arm. "You couldn't have come at a better time," Gail said to her friend. "You saved me from a fate worse than boring." She steered Nicole out the back door, letting it close behind them with a bang.

"Hey!" Frank called after his sister. "You were going to - " He sighed heavily, looking at Paul. "You realize we're never going to see them in this kitchen again, right?"

Kevin walked into the room, holding Angela's hand. "I found this little cutie-pie in the living room, shaking Barry down for some food," Kevin said with a smile. "Looks like she's taking after her brother. Where is the happy couple, anyway?"

"Never mind that; there are about a million potatoes here, and they aren't gonna peel themselves," Frank told him. "Grab a peeler. You too, Paul."

"Awww, man," Paul groaned, but he moved to where Frank was standing at the counter. Gail's brother was moving to the fridge now, taking out some plastic juice bottles, cans of soda, and pre-sliced vegetable trays.

Bobby came into the room. "You've got some real fine neighbours, Frank," he said to their host. "That Joanne is the salt of the earth. She and a few of the other mothers just got here with trays of food, and salads for the barbecue."

Frank looked at the Angels, who were standing by the counter. "Tell me there's potato salad," he said fervently.

"Of course there is, and there's lots of it. I know it's your favourite," Joanne said. She and a half dozen other women marched into the kitchen like the cavalry, carrying trays and bowls of food. "If you men want to go into the living room, there's more," she said pleasantly. "We'll take the kids some snacks, and you can bring the other stuff in here, while we're doing that." She looked at Frank. "I didn't know how much room you would have in your fridge, but don't worry. There's more food in mine, and more beer in the downstairs fridge, in my basement. And the cakes and other desserts are in Lee Ann's." She gestured with her head to her next-door neighbour. "Let's go, ladies. We've got some hungry kids out there."

Paul rushed toward the back door, and he held it open as the women marched outside, like some kind of culinary army.

Frank let out a breath. "No offense, you guys, but those are the real Angels, right there," he said reverently.

The two younger Angels laughed, and Bobby's beard twitched. "You're not wrong, Frank," he agreed. He grabbed a couple of cases of soda from the counter. "Well, let's go, gentlemen," God instructed the others. "Since we can't transport stuff our usual way, we'd better get a move on. Come with me, Frank. I need you to point out the Birthday Girl. I brought her a little something."

"Wow," Kevin marvelled, picking up a couple of large juice bottles. "A gift from God. That's pretty cool."

"Sounds like one of those sappy TV movies," Paul joked.

Frank grinned. "Yeah. Too bad we can never, ever tell her that. I know all of you guys know how to be discreet, but... Where's Gabriel?"

"I heard that," the Archangel said, walking into the kitchen. "Don't worry, I can be discreet, when I have to be. You've got some nice-looking ladies in the neighbourhood, Frank-er-ino. I might have to start stopping by, a little more often." He looked at all of the men carrying food and drinks, and he shook his head. "Look at all of you, standing there like pack mules."

"Yeah, well, saddle up, because as long as we're in mixed company, we're doing things the hard way," Bobby said in a half-growl. "Now, everybody grab something and let's head out, men."

"Move 'em out, giddyap, Rawhide," Paul sang, and Frank laughed, clapping the Angel on the shoulder. He and Gabriel picked up a couple more trays of food, and the men all trooped outside.

"So, it was Take Your Kids To Work Week on the set," Nicole was telling Dean, Gail and Cas.

"Yikes! How was that?" Gail said, curious.

"About as fun as it sounds," Nicole said, smirking. She took a sip from the cooler Dean had handed to her a couple of minutes ago. Some fruity-tasting thing. But as long as it had alcohol in it, she didn't care. He had brought Gail one too, but at the moment, she was more interested in applying the ice-cold bottle to various sweaty parts of her body than in actually drinking the beverage. Boy, was it hot outside. Gail was having fun here, but she was really looking forward to that air conditioning at home, too. She touched the bottle to her forehead, and then to her neck. Cas was looking at her. He probably thought that it was silly, what she was doing, but it made her feel psychologically cooler, anyway, if that even made any sense. Then he leaned down and said into her ear, "Maybe I should ask Frank if I can bring some ice to our home later, so that we can re-create our second honeymoon, in that hotel in California. Do you remember?" he asked her in a low voice. Did she ever. Woof. Gail didn't know what it was about her husband and hot weather. She loved him, and she hated the heat, but every time summer came around, he just made her so...

"Sorry, what was that?" Gail said to Nicole.

"I said, I love the guys and I'm going to miss them a lot," Nicole repeated, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Nicole and Gail had grown to be close friends by now, and even though they didn't see each other as often as they would have liked, Nicole knew the way her friend and Cas were with each other. But hey, she'd been talking, here. "What I won't miss is dealing with some of those little hellions on the set," Nicole went on.

"Little hellions?" Cas said, confused. "Surely the children I knew must be older, by now."

"Yeah, they are, Cas, but now, those guys have gone and had more!" Nicole exclaimed. "It was wild. It was sort of like - "

" - This?" Dean said dryly, gesturing to the kids, who were still running around in the back yard, yelling and playing.

"Yes! Exactly!" Nicole said, nodding vehemently. She kissed him on the cheek. "THANK you!"

"Why? What did they do, exactly?" Frank asked quizzically.

Nicole sighed. "More like: what didn't they do? They ran around grabbing props and bumping into cameras, and then they got into my makeup trailer, and made a huge mess. I mean, kids are cute and everything, but they can also be..."

"Exhausting," Sam finished for her. He'd been out there playing with Angela and Jackie and her friends for a while, but he sat down wearily now as Frank laughed. Their host opened the cooler beside the picnic table and tossed Sam a cold beer.

"I guess it wasn't that bad," Nicole said in a more subdued tone. "I don't want to come across as a child-hater, or anything. I guess I'm just feeling more than a little emotional that the whole thing will be over, soon. I still don't know what's going to happen after that."

"You're not worried about getting another job, are you?" Sam asked her, after he'd taken a long drink.

"No, it's nothing like that," Nicole said to him. "I'm known in the industry now, and Richard said he'd be glad to give me a great reference. I'm just not sure that's what I want to do, any more. Maybe it's time for a change."

Angela and Jackie came to where the adults were sitting, and Joanne was with them. "Is it all right if the girls come over to my house for a few minutes?" the woman asked Frank. "Angela just couldn't wait another minute to see what I gave Jackie for her birthday. Thanks for the suggestion, by the way."

Frank smirked. "No problem. If I'm gonna snoop on my kid, I might as well report the intel, right?"

"Dad! What are you talking about?" Angela exclaimed suspiciously.

"Nothing for you to concern yourself about, kiddo," Frank said innocently.

"If you don't feel it would be too rude to your guests, do you think you could come with, and help me carry some more things over?" Joanne asked Frank.

He rose, putting his bottle of beer down. "They're not guests, they're family/ Which means I can be as rude as I want," Frank joked. "Come on, guys," he said, beckoning to Cas and the Winchesters. "You heard the lady. She needs some muscle."

"No, I didn't mean - " Joanne said hastily, looking stricken. "I didn't mean that everyone should come. It's just a few things. Please, stay seated. Relax."

Joanne and Frank and the girls walked away, and Bobby let out a low whistle. "You noticed that too, huh?" Dean said to him, and their friend nodded.

"What? Noticed what?" Gail said, looking from man to man with a puzzled expression.

"She's interested in Frank," Sam said delicately.

"What do you mean?" Gail protested. "She's his neighbour. Her daughter and his daughter are best friends."

"Yeah, and when Frank suggested that some of us could go over and help bring some more stuff back here, she shot that down real quick, didn't she?" Dean pointed out.

"She's warm for his form, Kitten," Gabe said to Gail, lifting an eyebrow. "She came to the barbecue today, hoping to get herself a big ol' Frankenweenie."

Gail opened her mouth to protest, but then, she closed it again. Holy crap. They were right. The question was, how did she feel about it? No, maybe the real question was: did she have any right to feel any way about it at all?

Cas reached out and took her hand, giving it a supportive squeeze. He said nothing, though. Actually, Gail appreciated that. They could talk about it later, after she'd had the chance to let it sink in, for a bit.

Not that Gabriel felt any such reticence, of course. "Maybe I should talk to this Joanne, when she gets back," he mused aloud. "Find out if she's got any friends who are looking for a good - " Sam elbowed him, hard - "barbecue, too," Gabe finished, having gotten the message.

Gail was staring at him, shaking her head slowly. And, there it was. She'd known the subject was going to come up, sooner rather than later. She reminded herself that she had vowed to herself that when it did, she was going to be mature about it. Gabe was entitled to get on with his life.

She stood up, tears prickling at her eyes. "Excuse me," Gail said to the group, and then she turned and hurried into the house.

Cas stood abruptly, glaring daggers at Gabriel. "Were there not children here, and if Frank didn't have outside company, you and I would be having a serious discussion, right now," he said to his Brother through clenched teeth. "If this is how you demonstrate discretion, I suggest that you should go back to the library, and look up the word." Then he went after his wife.

Gabe was stricken. He hadn't meant anything by that; he was just being himself. The truth was, he was full of crap. He hadn't had any..."barbecue"...since Liz had died, and he wasn't even sure he would ever want any with anyone else, ever again. But he'd said that because that was who he was. Wasn't it?

Gabriel got up from his chair, motioning toward the house. "Maybe I should..." he said tentatively, but Dean shook his head. He drained his beer, gave Nicole a kiss, and then he stood, as well. "Let's go play with the kids, Uncle Gabe," the elder Winchester said. "Give Cas a chance to cool off. Come on."

Then, Rob and Suzanne came out of the house.

"Hey, where have you two been?" Sam asked the young couple. "Isn't this supposed to be your engagement party?"

"We had to go out and get a couple of things," Rob said cheerfully. "The champagne's in the fridge for later, when the kids are unconscious, and it's just the family." He put his arm around Bobby's shoulders, giving him a one-armed hug. "Hey, Gramps."

"What was the other thing you had to get?" Bobby asked, patting Rob's arm in acknowledgement of the affectionate gesture.

"This!" Suzanne said excitedly. She stuck her left hand out and showed them all the diamond engagement ring.

"Where's Dad?" Rob asked the group.

"He'll be back in a minute," Cas said from behind him, emerging from the house. "He went across the street."

Rob nodded, giving no sign that there was any significance to be attached to the statement. Perhaps they were overreacting, or maybe Rob was simply more used to his father and Joanne keeping company.

"Where's Aunt Gail? I want to show her my ring," Suzanne said to Cas.

He glanced briefly at Gabriel. "She'll be out in a moment," Cas said stiffly. Then he looked at the faces of the young couple, and his expression softened. "May I see the ring?"

"Of course!" Suzanne enthused, moving over to where he stood. Ever since the day that Cas and Gail had helped her and Rob the way they had, and Frank had confirmed to her that she was part of the family, Suzanne had felt such an affection for them all. She couldn't wait to get to know all of them better. She'd met most of the Angels at Cas and Gail's at Christmastime, and she knew all of the neighbours here and Angela's school friends by now, but it was kind of weird how the humans didn't know anything about the Angels, or God. It must be strange for them, having to hide that from those other people. That must be why the two groups weren't mixing a whole lot. Maybe when Aunt Gail came outside, Suzanne would enlist her help to try and think of some kind of a game they could all play together, to get them all better acquainted with each other.

"That's exquisite," Cas said, peering closely at the ring. "Very tasteful."

"Thanks, Uncle Cas," Rob said with a grin. "I remember what you said about most big diamonds being too gaudy."

"Yeah, I wouldn't have wanted something like that, anyway," Suzanne agreed. "I think the idea that women want a great big, ugly, expensive stone is just a myth."

"That hasn't been my experience," Gabriel piped up, and Cas's head swivelled slowly to look at his Brother.

Geez, did the guy have a death wish? Dean thought with exasperation. He tugged on Gabe's sleeve. "Come on; the kids are waiting."

Gabriel allowed Dean to pull him away from the group, and a minute later, Gail came outside.

"Come and look at Suzanne's ring," Cas said to his wife. "Isn't it lovely?"

Jackie and Angela were giggling upstairs, and Frank was smiling. It did his heart good to hear his daughter so happy. "I hate to break up GiggleFest, but we'd better remind them that we have a whole whack of little monkeys to entertain in my back yard," Frank said to Joanne. "I'd better fire up the barbecue in a little while, too."

"There's lots of time for that, yet," Joanne assured him. "Actually, while we have a moment alone, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Frank looked at her. Aww, geez. Whatever it was, he didn't want to talk about it. Not now, anyway. Actually, not ever. Because he was pretty sure he knew what it was, and it was not gonna happen. "Joanne, you're a terrific woman - "he began, but startlingly, at least to Frank, she turned away from him as soon as he'd started to speak.

"Never mind, Frank," she said quickly. "I don't know what I was thinking. You have a whole house full of people, and here I am, babbling. Girls!" she called out loudly. "Come on! We have a party to get back to!"

A minute or so later, the four of them were heading back to Frank's house.

Linda and Ethan had joined their group now, and so had a few of the human parents that Suzanne had brought over and introduced to the Angels. Everyone was being very nice and friendly with each other right now, mainly because they were bonding over common-ground subjects, such as the weather, and who was going to win the World Series this year. But, Gail could kind of see now why humans and Angels didn't mix more often. Now that she'd had years of experience as an Angel under her belt, she realized how exhausting it was sometimes, not being able to be your true self around people who just wouldn't understand. She got up and walked over to where Gabriel stood.

He was no longer actively playing with the kids; he was just standing off to the side by himself, watching. He looked at Gail when she approached, and then his eyes shifted to Cas, who was still seated on the patio with the other adults. But Gail's husband was watching them, of course.

"Never mind him," Gail said softly. "It's me you're talking to, now." She took a deep breath. "I came here to apologize to you."

Gabriel's eyebrows shot up, and Gail laughed. But then, her expression turned serious again. "I have to grow up, and get over this," she told him. "It's my problem, not yours. I have no right to be upset. You're just being yourself, and that's why we love you."

His look was suspicious. "WHO does?"

Gail laughed again. "We all do. Everybody. We should tell you that more often. In fact, we should all tell each other that, more often. Please don't feel like you have to be anybody else but who you are around me, Gabriel. I would hate for us to be uncomfortable around each other. I just want you to be happy."

He smiled then, but it was a sad smile. "I don't know if I'll ever be happy again, Gail. Liz was the light of my existence. All of this - " he waved his hand at the party " - It's just for show. None of it's real; you know that. It could all disappear, tomorrow."

Gail nodded, believing she understood. On one level, they were talking about love, and loss. But on a deeper level, they were talking about much bigger issues.

"I know," Gail said quietly. "But we're all working on the problem, night and day. We'll find Vincent and his minions, and we'll avoid the Apocalypse. I know we will, Gabriel. I know that it feels like we're going down to the wire on this one, but we'll figure it out. I know it."

Gabe took her hand, gave it a brief squeeze, and then let go. He loved her optimism, but he didn't share it. They had zero intel on the Unholy Trinity. None. And he didn't expect there to be a major breakthrough, any time soon. Then, thinking of the Trinity made him think of the elusive third Magi, and the fact that Gabriel had no intel on THAT guy, either. As the latest modification the Archangel had undergone began to erode, in his mind's eye he saw a fleeting image of another trio. Three Brothers.

Gabriel looked down at Gail. She was giving him the doe eyes, now. That was the look which had prompted the erosion of the protective layer of modification in his mind. She had no idea what was really going on. What Gabriel was doing behind their backs. But it had nothing to do with her, did it? He glanced uneasily at Castiel, who was still looking their way. Why was his Brother's steady gaze making Gabe feel so guilty?

"Tell Frank I'm sorry, Kitten, but I've gotta go. Tell Rob I'll see him at the bachelor party," Gabriel said quickly. Then, impulsively, he took her hands in his. "Promise me you'll never change, Gail."

He gave her hands another squeeze, and then he disappeared.

Crap! Gail looked around wildly, but it seemed as if no one had noticed except for one of Angela's little friends, who did a rather comic, Deanlike double-take.

Cas had noticed, of course, and he rushed down from the back deck to where Gail stood. "What did he say to you?" he demanded.

"It's OK, Cas," Gail said, but she was frowning. "He and I are OK. But, there's something up with him. What did he say when you talked to him?"

"Nothing of any substance," he said, pursing his lips. "I wonder if I should have another talk with him."

"Uncle Cas! Aunt Gail!" Angela called out to them. Gail looked over at the playground area, in the corner of the back yard. Bobby had put it in a while ago, and the expansion to the yard, like the other renovations God had made to the Earth homes in their family, had gone unnoticed.

Angela and Jackie were holding hands, waiting their turn to go down the slide. For an instant, Gail saw herself and Liz in those two little girls, and her heart clenched painfully. But she was glad for her niece. Angela would never know the sense of loneliness and isolation that came from feeling different from everyone else her age. Gail had watched Angela interacting with the other kids here today, and she knew that her niece was going to be just fine.

"She's doing great," Frank told his sister, as if reading her mind. "She's popular with the other kids, and she's smart as a whip. Just like you were. In fact, she helps her teacher out, with the kids who need more help with their reading."

Gail smiled. She was so proud. She opened her mouth to say something. Maybe take credit for reading with Angela a lot, before the child had even gone to school. But instead, she poked her brother. "Hey! What do you mean, smart like I WAS?"

"Oh, you picked up on that, did you?" Frank smirked.

SPLAT! Suddenly, Frank's face was soaking wet. He wiped the water from his face, looking around.

"Gotcha!" Dean crowed triumphantly. He was holding a large plastic water pistol.

Gail was laughing. "That - was – excellent!" she exclaimed. "Do it again!"

"Oh, I plan to," Dean said, but now, he was looking at her.

"No," Gail said, holding up her hands.

"You're always complaining about the heat," he said, slowly advancing on her. "This is cool and refreshing. You'll see."

Gail started to back away. "So are cold drinks. I'll just have one of those."

But Dean was still coming after her, and he pulled the trigger, squirting her with water. She shrieked and ran away, with Dean in hot pursuit.

"I'll protect you, Aunt Gail!" Peter said, and he started chasing Dean, his own water pistol in hand.

"No need," Cas said, winking his eye at Frank. When Gail ran back their way, with Dean following close behind, Cas subtly stuck his foot out. Dean tripped on it, and he went flying into the plastic kiddie pool that Sam and Rob were filling with water. There was a huge splash as Dean fell face-first into it, getting soaked.

Gail was laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach with both hands. "It's cool, and refreshing!" she called out gleefully. She laughed so hard that she snorted, and then that made her laugh some more.

Now all the kids started laughing too, as Sam reached down to help his brother to his feet.

Gail was wiping her eyes with both hands. She stretched up to kiss Cas on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetie. I needed that."

"I don't know what you're thanking ME for," Cas said innocently. "It was Dean who made you laugh."

After another hour or so of boisterous play, Frank came into the kitchen to fill up the cooler. Gail was there with Nicole, and the women were having a drink and laughing about Dean's mishap.

Frank nudged his sister. "I don't know if I should sell Cas out in front of Dean's girlfriend, but that was the best thing I've seen in a long time."

"That's okay, I'm on Cas's side," Nicole said, smirking. She and Gail clinked bottles and drank.

"I think I'm gonna have to bring out some whips and chairs to tame those kids, though," Frank said, opening the fridge. "Unless I'm gonna start barbecuing now, they're all going to implode before suppertime. Unless we can get them to sit down and relax, somehow. But I don't want them indoors staring at a screen on such a nice day, either."

"Never fear, Frankster. The Trickster is here," Gabriel said. He appeared suddenly in the kitchen, wearing a sparkly green suit and a multicoloured bowtie. He was holding a large valise. "I am here to amaze, astound, and befuddle your young charges. Gather them all together, and announce my appearance." He shook the valise. "Quickly, before my rabbit escapes, and eats its way through the vegetable trays."

Frank grinned. He had no idea about the earlier drama between the Angels, because he hadn't been in on any of it. All he knew was that Gabriel was a lifesaver.

Gail looked at her brother and Nicole. "Can you guys give us a second, please?"

Frank shrugged. He loaded up the cooler and he and Nicole went back outside.

Gabe held up his hand. "Don't say anything," he pleaded with her. "I was an ass, and I'm sorry. This is my way of making it up. OK?"

She let out a breath. "OK, Gabriel. What's your magician name?"

He looked disconcerted. "I don't really have one."

"How about The Great Gabe-er-ino?" she suggested.

He smiled. "Sure, why not? And the best part is, I don't even have to know any magic to amaze everybody. All I have to do is just be myself. A very smart lady said that to me, recently."

Gail moved forward, kissing him on the cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way," she said softly.

"Want to be my lovely assistant?" he asked her, waggling an eyebrow.

"I have a better idea," Gail said with a smile.

The Great Gabe-er-ino performed a number of amazing magic tricks, and then a few astounding ones, all with the help of his lovely assistant, Jackie. The birthday girl squealed when Gabriel snapped his fingers and made a plump white rabbit appear in Angela's lap. Then he snapped his fingers again, and the bunny re-appeared on Sam's head. All the kids laughed as Sam picked it up delicately. Its paws stuck in his hair for a moment, and Dean snickered.

Cas and Gail were sitting close together and holding hands, and Gail was relieved to see that her husband looked a lot more relaxed now. She had told him that Gabriel had apologized, and that he had come back here to help Frank with the kids. And Gabe's idea had certainly worked. The kids were sitting still, paying close attention to the performance. The adults were enjoying some very welcome peace and quiet, and they were all enjoying the show, too.

"Where did you get him?" Lee Ann asked Frank. "He's terrific! I'd like to hire him for Byron's birthday next month."

Gail's brother smiled, mightily restraining himself from rolling his eyes. Her son, "Lord Byron". If only Lee Ann knew who and what Gabriel really was. Then again, her kid was so spoiled that his mom would probably lobby for God, as an upgrade. Fortunately, Angela didn't really hang around with Byron too much. He didn't want his daughter picking up bad habits.

"He's related to my brother-in-law, Cas," Frank told the woman. "But, he doesn't usually do kids' parties. He's just doing this one as a favour to me."

There. Hopefully, that would put the kibosh on that. All Frank would need was for Gabe to be flitting around from house to house, pulling all kinds of Archangel tricks out of his bag.

Cas gave Gail's hand a squeeze, nodding his head to where Angela was sitting. She and a boy from her class named Nicholas were holding hands. Gail smiled. That was so cute. It reminded her of, well...her and Cas. She glanced quickly at Frank, to see if he had noticed. It was probably freaking her brother out enough that Rob was getting married, let alone seeing his little daughter holding hands with a boy, despite being as innocent as it all was.

Gabriel finished his show with a flourish, by having Sam and Dean come up to the front. He sat them down in two chairs and asked little Jackie to place a large tablecloth over them.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Dean protested when Gabriel moved to stand behind them. The Archangel spoke some nonsense phrases. Then he said something in ancient Enochian, which made Cas bark out a laugh. He quickly manufactured it into a cough. Gail looked at her husband quizzically, and he leaned down and spoke softly in her ear. "Loosely translated, he called them 'ass-faced Neanderthals'," Cas told his wife, and her lips twitched.

"Abra-Kazaam!" Gabriel exclaimed, waving his hands over the Winchesters' tablecloth-covered heads. Suddenly, the tablecloth fluttered to the ground. The brothers had disappeared!

The kids clapped and cheered, and the adults applauded, too. "That was amazing! How did he DO that?" Joanne marvelled.

"Smoke and mirrors," Frank said quickly, even though there had been neither.

Gabriel soaked up his ovation for a moment, bowing low. Then he waved his hand one more time, producing a small tiara which he put on Jackie' head, pronouncing her Princess Jacqueline, and thanking her for being such a wonderful assistant.

The Archangel closed his valise with a snap, twirled his bowtie and walked towards the house. Cas caught him by the arm.

"Good job, Brother," Castiel said to Gabriel, and the Archangel's expression relaxed. "Now, where are Sam and Dean?" Cas added, with a raised eyebrow.

Gabe smirked. "I'd really like to say Tasmania, or Antarctica," he said in a stage whisper so that no one else would hear, "but they're just a few houses down the block. They'll be back in a minute." He winked at Gail. "I'll see you around, Kitten." Then he walked into the house.

A short while later, Frank enlisted the help of some of the men to bring all of the meat out from the kitchen. Rob rolled the huge barbecue unit out from the storage shed and helped his father prepare it for cooking.

"Men make fire, cook meat," Frank said, thumping his chest.

"That reminds me of that Tom Hanks movie," Bobby remarked with a smile.

"What, 'You've Got Mail'?" Frank joked.

"Wouldn't 'Joe Versus The Volcano' work better?" Rob said, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the student surpasses the teacher," Frank announced proudly. "In fact..." He extended the tongs to his son. "I pass the torch to you, kid. Since you're getting married soon, you'll have to learn how to run your own grill. Hint: put lots of hot dogs and burgers on for the kids, and feed me and Dean, first."

"Hey!" Sam objected, but Dean smirked. "Listen to your dad," the elder Winchester said to Rob. "He knows what he's talking about."

"Really? Can I get that in writing?" Frank joked, elbowing his friend.

Gail's brother moved to the edge of the patio and called out, "Anybody who's under the age of eighteen, come up here to the table. We've got salads, and pickles, and cheese, and buns. Load up your paper plates with whatever you want, and then line up beside Rob. He's making hot dogs and hamburgers for you little monkeys, and then the grownups are going to have ribs, and steaks."

"Can I have a steak?" Peter asked Mike, but Carolyn's boyfriend shook his head.

"Sorry," Mike said. "Steaks are expensive. Besides, you like hot dogs and hamburgers, right?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, but he looked crestfallen. Now that he was getting older, he wanted to try some manly stuff. But, Mike was so strict. He wouldn't let Peter have a taste of coffee, or beer, or anything. Uncle Barry had once given Peter a sip of wine, but he'd sworn the boy to secrecy.

Mike moved away, and Sam nudged Peter. "I'll tell you what," the younger Winchester said to the boy quietly. "I don't eat a lot of red meat anyway, so I'll give you some of my steak. How's that?"

"Thanks, Uncle Sam," Peter said happily.

"Oh, yeah. 'Uncle Sam'. I always thought that was pretty funny, when I was a kid," Rob said affably, lining up the wieners and hamburger patties on the grill.

One of Angela's classmates pulled on Frank's pant leg. "What kind of cheese do you have?" Caitlin asked him.

He looked down at the little girl with surprise. "Why? What are you, some kind of a gourmet, or something?"

"What's that?" Caitlin wanted to know.

"I think it's sleeping, in French," Byron piped up. "You know, like, 'Frere Jacques, gourmet-voo'."

Nicole nearly snorted the sip of cooler she'd taken out of her nose. She looked away, so the little boy wouldn't see her laughing.

"Allow me, my good man...and lady," Barry said with a smile. "This is my area of expertise. A gourmet is one who appreciates fine foods. I don't blame you for being particular, Caitlin. The right types of cheeses can enhance your palate, while the other kind - "

" - is cheap, at the bulk store," Frank finished for him. "Have you seen how much cheese costs, these days?"

"I'm sorry, Frank," Caitlin's mother said with a half-shrug. "She's a picky eater. She only likes certain types of cheeses."

Their host smiled. "That's OK. We've all been through it. There was a time when Rob only wanted to eat foods with four letters. What a weirdo."

"Oh, thanks. Way to sell me out in front of my fiancee, Dad," Rob said, but he was smiling. He had tongs in one hand, and a spatula in the other, expertly turning hot dogs and flipping burgers.

"Foods with four letters?" Cas asked, puzzled. "What does that mean?"

"It means, foods COMPRISED of four letters," Sam replied. "Like: milk."

"That's not a food," Dean contradicted his brother. "More like: beef," he added.

"Sure. Or...rice," Gail offered.

Frank nodded. "Now you're getting it. Keep going."

"Tuna," Sam said.

"Veal," Dean countered.

"Eggs," Cas chipped in, and Frank smiled. "Technically, that's a plural, but I'll allow it," Gail's brother said.

There was silence for a moment, as the participants tried to think of other items. "Meat," Dean said, finally, and Frank smirked. "OK, that's not even a specific food, but I sense a definite theme in your answers." He looked around at all of the others. "But, you see how hard it is?" He touched Caitlin's shoulder. "Come with me, kiddo. We'll get you fixed up. Tell me what kinds of cheese you like, and we'll make a customized plate for you. It'll be like that Depeche Mode song: 'Your Own Personal Cheeses'."

Another silence, and then the people gathered around who were old enough or knowledgeable enough to understand the reference laughed, or groaned loudly. Several of them did both.

Henri nudged Bobby. "You'll get this one. Fifth Dimension: 'This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus'."

Bobby smiled. "Jimi Hendrix: 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy'."

"CCR: 'There's a bathroom on the right'," Sam said.

"What, those aren't the lyrics?" Dean joked. "I've got a good one. Bon Jovi: 'It doesn't make a difference if we're naked or not'."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Number one, there are kids here. And, number two, since when do you listen to anything that recent?"

"Since when do you have no sense of humour?" Dean shot back.

Nicole looked at him evenly. "Keep that up, and you won't get to be in the final season."

"Say what, now?" Dean said, puzzled.

Nicole looked at the bottle of cooler in her hand. "Oops. I think I'd better go easy on these. That was supposed to be a surprise. I talked Richard into inviting you all back for one of the last shows, as body doubles for the main characters. Bobby, Frank, and Gail, too. Won't that be fun?"

Gail clapped her hands together with delight. "That's a fantastic idea, Nicole!" Gail looked at her husband. "Ooooh, can you make sure there's a kissing scene for our characters?"

Frank paused in the act of assembling Caitlin's plate. "Don't judge me by my sister," he said to the assembled parents. "I know how to behave in public."

"Why would all of you be body doubles for actors on a TV show?" Joanne asked, curious.

Ummm...yeah. That would be a little hard to explain to someone outside their circle. "Nepotism," Frank blurted out. "Cas used to work on the show, years ago."

"Uncle Dean, your burger is ready," Rob called out.

Dean sprang into action. He'd already loaded up his plate. "What, no steak? No ribs?" he said, nudging Rob.

"Even better," the young man said with a grin. "I present to you – the Bronto Burger!" He lifted the giant burger off the grill and deposited it onto the open bun on Dean's plate.

Dean looked at it with wide eyes, and then his face broke into a grin. He looked over at Suzanne. "You're a lucky woman," he told her, and she laughed.

Then, the huge feast began. Cas was bemused, thinking that this must be the modern-day, family-friendly version of some of the bacchanals he had observed in ancient times. Once the children had been fed, there were steaks and ribs and chicken for the adults, as promised. So as not to arouse suspicion, the Angels all took small plates of food, too. Then, they spent part of the time picking at the food, and the other part surreptitiously sneaking bits of what they had put on their plates onto the plates of members of their human family.

Frank, Dean, Rob and Mike were loving it. Suzanne, Nicole and Sam did too, for a short time. But eventually, they sat back and held their stomachs, shaking their heads.

Once the main meal was done, Joanne came out of the house bearing a huge cake. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to Jackie, and the parents dished out cake and ice cream for the children. Most of the Angels were able to beg off, pleading that they had no room left, after the big meal.

Jackie opened her presents, and then shortly thereafter, the kids that had been in attendance were taken home by their parents, until there were just Jackie and Joanne left.

"I want to thank you for giving my Jackie such a wonderful party," Joanne said to Frank. She looked over to where Angela and Jackie were sitting, looking at their cell phones and giggling, whispering conspiratorially. The other kids had all gone now, including Rob and Angela's Canadian "cousins", Peter and Ilene. Carolyn and Mike had taken them back home to Canada with the discreet help of one of the Angels, insisting that Barry should stay. It was so seldom that he got a day off from being the kids' primary care-giver. Carolyn's brother-in-law had taken them up on their offer. One of their remaining Angel family could take him home later.

"Sit down and have a drink with us," Frank invited Joanne. "You've been working your butt off all day."

"So have you - " Joanne started to say, but Frank smirked. "Nahhh, I took a page out of my little sister's book. Delegate, delegate, delegate." He pulled out a chair on the patio, where the remaining adults were gathered. "Have a seat. What can I get you to drink?" Frank asked her.

"What kind of wine is that you're drinking?" Joanne asked Gail.

"It's white Zinfandel. It's pretty good," Gail said encouragingly.

"Allow me," Cas said. He took the bottle out of the makeshift ice bucket and topped up Gail's glass, and then he poured one for Joanne.

They all chatted for a while about the party and how much fun it had been, and then Frank looked over at the girls. "Look at them, with those phones," he said, rolling his eyes. "How much do you want to bet they're texting the kids who just left here?"

"How much do you want to bet they're texting each other?" Joanne quipped, and she and Frank laughed.

"That texting stuff is confusing," Bobby remarked. "Angela tried to show me earlier how to do it, but they don't even use words. It's all these letters, and abbreviations. Doesn't anybody even use English, any more?"

"IDK, Gramps," Rob wisecracked.

"See? Like that. What's that mean?" Bobby grumped.

"I Don't Know," Rob said, and Bobby frowned. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he said irascibly. "You just said it!"

"I sense a Who's On First situation developing," Cas said, and Frank grinned. "Up top," he said, and he and Cas high-fived.

"Uncle Cas, FTW," Suzanne said with a smile. Cas looked at her sharply, so she added hastily, "That means 'For The Win'."

"'LOL', kiddo," Frank said to her, nodding his approval.

Cas relaxed. Everyone knew what THAT one meant. "'Lots of Love'," he said, smiling, and Sam grinned. "I guess it could mean that, too," the younger Winchester said.

"You should know what 'TTYL' means, right, Cas?" Nicole said, and Gail's husband was thoughtful for a moment. "'Talk To Your Lord'?" he ventured, and the assembled adults laughed.

But Frank was getting a little nervous, now. Joanne was looking a little puzzled, and Frank thought he knew why. She would have no way of knowing that his brother-in-law was an Angel, an ancient being who would be much more comfortable with cave drawings and hieroglyphics than texting, and text abbreviations. He thought furiously, trying to come up with a change of subject.

He was rescued by his daughter and her best friend. The girls approached their parents. "Can we go upstairs, Dad?" Angela asked Frank, tapping him on the arm. "Jackie and I want to write some stories, before bedtime."

Gail was puzzled. "'Write stories'?" she asked her niece. "What's THAT all about?"

The little girls glanced quickly at Nicole, but then they looked quickly away. "It's a secret, right now," Jackie said, putting a finger to her lips.

"Don't tell anybody," Angela said to Frank sternly, pointing her finger at her father.

They all smiled, but Barry's smile faded after a minute. In that particular moment, little Angela had looked so much like Jody that it had made his heart skip a beat. Barry had been thinking a lot lately about their lost loved ones. That was one of the reasons he had appreciated Carolyn and Mike's offer to take the kids tonight. He needed to talk to his family.

"OK, I won't, Your Majesty," Frank said, grabbing at Angela's pointing finger.

"Jackie's the Princess, not me," Angela said. "Uncle Gabe said so."

"That's okay, I'll give you a promotion," Jackie told her friend, and the adults smiled again. These girls were just too cute. Angela made the rounds, kissing and hugging everyone around the table, and then she and Jackie went into the house.

Joanne yawned widely. "Sorry," she apologized to the group. She drained her glass and set the empty wine glass on the table, giving Gail a weary smile. "That was very good," she told Frank's sister. "I guess I'm just a little worn out. I think I'll head home." She rose from her chair, looking down at Frank. "I'll see myself out. Keep Jackie as long as you want. I think I'll have a long bubble bath, and then fall asleep to a movie."

Frank grinned. "Every parent who has ever lived can relate to that. Right, Barry?"

Their Canadian friend gave him a dutiful smile. "Yes. Yes, we can," he agreed.

"I'll be back tomorrow, to help you clean up," Joanne told Frank, touching his shoulder. "It was nice meeting all of you."

Then she walked into the house, and then, she was gone.

The group was silent for a moment, and then, two of them spoke up at the same time:

"Frank, she's hitting on you, big time-" Dean started to say, and simultaneously, Barry said, "I need to get something off my chest."

Everyone else looked from Frank to Barry, and then back again.

Gail's brother was uncomfortable. Before today, he would have told Dean he was crazy. But now, he knew otherwise. Man, oh man.

"What do you want to say, Barry?" Frank said quickly, trying to take the focus off of himself.

"What about you, Frank?" Barry countered with.

"We'll circle back to me," their host parried.

It was a weird kind of standoff. Both men had something they wanted to say to their family members, but now that all of said family members were staring at them, neither man wanted to be the one to begin.

Finally, Barry sighed heavily. "I wanted to talk to all of you about something. I haven't said anything to Carolyn or Mike yet, because I think they might be too close to the situation. Also, I've been feeling really guilty about...well, the way I've been feeling." He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about moving out of the house, and doing some travelling," Barry continued. "I just can't seem to get on with my life, living there. Everywhere I look in that house, I see Tommy. I take a walk in the neighbourhood, and all I can see is the street where he was killed. I need a change of scenery, so I thought I might travel around North America, for a while. Maybe even go to Europe. I actually thought I might try to follow in Tommy's author footsteps, and try to write a travelogue. What do you guys think?"

"I think you should do that, if you want to," Gail told him. Her heart went out to her friend. "Why would you feel guilty about it?"

"Well, because I'd kind of be leaving Carolyn and Mike without a caregiver," Barry said lamely, and even though that was true, it wasn't exactly the truth.

Cas was staring at him evenly, and Barry looked away. "What's the real reason?" the Angel asked him softly.

Barry started to cry silently. "Because I feel like, if I leave, I might never come back," he replied. "Because I feel like..." His throat closed up, and a moment later, he tried again. "I feel like, if I left our home, I would be leaving Tommy, somehow."

And even that wasn't the entire truth, but it was close enough. Barry couldn't quite bring himself to tell his and Tommy's family that there were mornings when he woke up in their bed, and he couldn't remember his husband's favourite foods, or what the last movie was that they had seen together. There were even some mornings he couldn't quite recall what Tommy had looked like. Was this what people called "moving on"? Or was it just the final assault, this time, to Tommy's memory?

Frank cleared his throat. "Speaking as the resident expert on the subject, I'm with Gail. You've gotta do what you've gotta do, Barry. If you need to leave, you should leave. I needed to stay, so I stayed. There were so many times I seriously considered selling this place, for many of the same reasons. But, I stayed. Ultimately, I stayed. But, you? You've got to hit the road, Barry. If Carolyn and Mike will stay in the house with Peter and Ilene, you've gotta go. That's my advice."

"Thank you, Frank," Barry said, sniffling back the tears.

Now, the mood was somber. Everyone who was drinking took a sip of their favoured beverage, thinking sadly about Tommy, Jody, and all of their departed loved ones.

Frank cleared his throat. "OK, that's enough of this self-pity party. What I really need is some advice on how to let someone down easy. How do you repel a woman, you guys? Dean, how did you do it, before you met Nicole?"

Dean's girlfriend snickered. "Yes, how DID you do that?" Nicole asked him.

The elder Winchester gave Frank the one-finger salute. He knew what Gail's brother was trying to do. Barry was their friend and they all felt bad for him, of course, but you couldn't swing a dead cat, as the expression went, without hitting somebody around this table who had suffered at least one devastating loss of a loved one. This had been a really good day, and he hated to see it get too maudlin. So, he shot back, "Don't ask me, ask Sam. He's a chick – wait, what's the opposite of a magnet?"

Sam made a face. "Hey, my girlfriend might live in Europe, but at least I've got one. Unlike some other guys."

"Don't look at me," Rob said, grinning. He took Suzanne's hand.

"Or me," Cas chipped in, doing the same with Gail.

Frank started to look in Bobby's direction, but God said, "Keep on going, unless you want me to warm up my smiting hand."

Everybody laughed, and Barry started to smile. He felt better now for having confided in his and Tommy's extended family, but he hadn't wanted to bring them all down, either. If he did decide to leave, this was how he wanted to think of them all. "Maybe it's ME you should be talking to, if you want tips on how not to attract women," he joked, joining in the fun.

"That's it, Dad!" Rob exclaimed. "Why don't you pretend that Uncle Barry is your boyfriend?"

They all looked at him. "Uhhh...what?" Frank said.

"Think about it," Rob enthused. "Joanne only moved to the street last year. How does she know you're not gay?"

"OK, but...following that logic, if it's a ruse, it could be any one of these guys, right?" Gail said, her lips twitching.

"Hey!" Barry protested, playing along. "I'm a great catch, you know!"

Frank sat back in his chair, appearing to consider. "Yeah, but so are some of these other guys," he joked. "True, you're a terrific cook, and you do come pre-qualified..." Barry grinned. "But," Frank continued, "Sam's tall and smart, Dean can kick ass, and Cas is good-looking. Plus, he's sexy when he's assertive."

"Thank you, Frank," Cas said proudly, but Gail protested, "You realize you're talking about your brother-in-law, right? Ewww."

"Don't get lippy with me, kiddo, or I'll ask your husband out on a date," Frank smirked.

"Wait a minute!" his sister exclaimed. "How come Cas is 'assertive', but I'm 'lippy'? Talk about a double standard."

Nicole was nodding. "I know we're all just kidding around here, but I agree with Gail," she remarked.

"Oh, come on," Frank said, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's true," Gail persisted. "Has a man ever been called lippy, or pushy, or bossy? No. Of course not. They're always assertive, or 'take-charge'."

Frank's grin widened. "There you go. I knew if I said something all 'MCP', you'd forget all about my wanting to date Cas."

Dean made a motion, pretending to grab Frank's beer. "OK, that's it. You're cut off," he remarked.

Suzanne was puzzled. "What's 'MCP'?" she asked.

"Male Chauvinist Pig," Bobby told her. "That was one of OUR abbreviations, back in the days before texting."

"I'm not sure I know what that is, either," Suzanne said uncertainly.

"Oh, trust me, you do," Nicole said to Rob's fiancee. She gestured to include Gail. "We all do." Gail nodded vehemently.

Frank was smiling. "Well, as much as I enjoy getting the Sisterhood all riled up, I believe I had the floor. I still have to figure out which of you guys I want to date."

"Why don't you do a reality show kind of thing, like The Bachelor?" Rob wisecracked.

"I could go over to our house and cut a few roses for you, for the ceremony," Cas said with a smile. "They've been doing very well in the back garden this year."

Dean looked sharply at Gail's husband. "Cas, I love you, man, but if you tell me you watch that show, our friendship is officially over."

"I watch a lot of television programs, Dean," Cas said evasively. "You know that."

The look on Dean's face at that moment made them all laugh. It was a look that only he could pull off: a hilarious mixture of puzzlement, suspicion, and disgust.

Suzanne laughed the most, probably because she wasn't as familiar with Dean's facial calisthenics as everyone else present. In fact, she laughed so hard that she had to let go of Rob's hand. "Excuse me," Suzanne said, getting quickly to her feet.

She rushed into the house, and Rob grinned. "Hey, when you've gotta go, you've gotta go," he commented, and they all understood. Even the Angels had experienced the urgent need to pee at some time in the past.

Suzanne hurried down the hallway off the kitchen and relieved herself. Then she washed her face and her hands, letting a couple more stray giggles escape. She came back down the hallway and, just as she'd been about to go back outside, she heard a sound coming from further inside the house, near the front door.

There was a woman standing there in the front hallway. It was dark outside now and the hall light was off, but the outline of the intruder was backlit by the porch light. Suzanne's heart skipped a beat. Immediately, she was thrown back emotionally to the night that she and Rob had been abducted from the house. How had the woman gotten in? Frank always made sure the front door was locked at night. Suzanne glanced at the monitor for the alarm system, and the light was green, meaning it was armed.

"Who are you?" Suzanne said in a hushed voice.

Silence for a moment. "Who are YOU?" the woman asked her. Then somewhat strangely, the intruder added, "Do you live here?"

"Yeah," Suzanne said warily. She was moving slowly toward the wall, where the light switch was.

The woman moved slightly, and Suzanne panicked. She adopted a fight stance, like Rob had taught her to do. Then, the young woman remembered Rob and Frank telling her about Alice, Eric's mom. No; Eric's killer. She was the reason that Rob's dad had installed the alarm system in the first place. Nobody knew where she was or what she was currently up to, but Suzanne knew that Alice was on a mission to murder all of Vincent's "kids", two of whom were here in the back yard, right now. Suzanne's family. She panicked, fumbling for the light, wishing she had a weapon.

Suddenly, the light went on. Frank was standing by the switch. Suzanne looked up at him, but he was looking past the young woman at the female standing by the front door. His mouth dropped open in shock.

"Hi, Pookie," Jody said.

\- END OF BOOK 46 -


End file.
